And She Will Be Loved
by The Orange Girl
Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise. DracoxHermione Fin
1. Prologue: Beautiful Minds

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com (links screw up, but this isn't meant to be one)

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R (but that's far later)

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Prelude: Beautiful Minds_

Cameras flashed furiously as the newest batch of Aurors walked out of the new building of the Ministry of Magic, blinding not only the ones the reporters were trying to take snapshots of, but the other people inside the building and those at the sidewalk as well.

"Harry, what do you think of--"

"What is the real score between--"

"There has been news of violence in--"

"The Chudley Cannons said they wanted--"

Questions were thrown from practically everywhere, the media asking all at once, not even having mercy at what would most likely be a traumatic experience for Neville Longbottom, who stood behind the person to whom all inquiries were aimed for.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly as the Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter was rained with different questions that she knew he would most definitely escape, if given a chance to. She nudged Ron at the back discreetly with her gloved hand. "Ron!" She whispered.

Said Ron tilted his head back slightly, angling his face so he could still see the reporters fawning at Harry beside him. "Yeah?"

"Let's go already!"

"Hermione, you know we can't escape!" Ron shot back in the same hushed tone, before turning again to smile at another reporter avidly taking pictures of him and Harry.

Hermione felt her eyes sting, so she quickly rubbed her eyes with her hand and held back her tears. It was always like this. She was used to being fawned by the press, but she never really liked it. At first she told herself that it was quite all right, since Harry and Ron were also sharing the same sentiments. They all were by far too exposed into the public eye, that every move they make would most probably make them the headline the next day at the Daily Prophet.

... Or so she thought.

She wanted attention and recognition, yes. In fact, it was what she wanted in the first place. That was why she studied all her lessons, did everything a week before the submission, studied as early as two months before the tests, and practically memorized Hogwarts: A History. She made it a point to excel in as much activities as she could (save for Quidditch) so that she would be given due recognition and appreciation. Call it stupid, looking for attention, but she didn't care. She never had satisfaction in simple things that in her perspective existed for no particular reason at all.

But she was getting sick of it... All the lights, all the attention, the entire buzz around her that wouldn't seem to stop.

"Hermione, do you think that the potion--"

"What about the specimens in the Forbidden--"

"How is it that you can still maintain--"

Hermione wanted to scream and flail and tell them all to bugger off, but she knew that any wrong move would most definitely ruin Harry's reputation. HARRY's, not hers. After all, when had she had a reputation?

Everything about her revolved around Harry Potter and his misadventures. Or Harry Potter and his image. Or Harry Potter and his fans club. It was always "Harry Potter and his friends," or "Harry Potter and the Gryffindors," even "Harry Potter and his girlfriend" (which of course, she felt revolted with the mere thought of). It was always a package deal: Buy one, take two. One being Harry, and two being she and Ron. No, no. Make that "Buy one, take one." She really didn't belong with the two. They were the real best of friends. She was merely an object to them: a walking dictionary, but most of the time a stick in their arses. They only loved her when it came to homeworks, essays, projects and exams. Not during summers to even let them consider inviting her to go with them to Romania, not during Winter Breaks to at least have her spend a few days in the Burrow with them before heading back to Hogwarts, not even from after the weekly Hogsmeade Trips to even remember bringing back a chocolate frog for her while she was left at the castle with Head Girl duties.

She was only their best friend whenever they had nothing up their sleeves but trouble. She was their lifeline in Potions and Transformation and Care for Magical Creatures and... Well, you know its actually every subject to her, save for Defense Against the Dark Arts -- the only subject that Harry and Ron seemed to have the natural talent in to even equal the top two students in the class. She was their conspirator, some sort of secret keeper of the two second generation Marauders; their involuntary follower who was at least much more important to them than Colin Creevey; their unconscious enemy who could be a much worse rival to them than Draco Malfoy.

_Malfoy..._

She thought she saw the unmistakable silver-platinum hair somewhere in the crowd that formed a few meters from the newly ordained Aurors. It had been months since she last saw him and that was in their Graduation Rites, when he gave her a curt nod and a sneer before ushering his mother out of the entrance and into the awaiting carriage for them. They have never met outside of Hogwarts after that, but she would often see him on newspapers and magazines, in articles pertaining to his businesses and affairs of the Malfoys. She even saw his picture in Witch Weekly's special issue about the most eligible Bachelors of the Wizarding World, where he (and Harry and Ron, of course) were lined up with Viktor Krum, Oliver Wood, and other Quidditch, Muggle Show business and Business personalities. But of course, she had never told anyone that she was one of the thousands of witches who bought the first limited edition printed copies. Hermione Granger never read magazines such as that, as she wasn't your ordinary witch.

She looked up, trying to search for the Slytherin. But as she scanned the mob for the third time, she convinced herself that it was just her imagination. Hermione shook her head slightly; the tall white hat crowning her suddenly toppled over and fell.

Hermione bent to retrieve the fallen article of Auror clothing when another flash of silver caught her eye. She stopped in mid-action and again scanned the crowd for the striking color, or even a familiar face and mocking smirk, but found none. Silvery blonde... It couldn't have been someone else. In all her years in the Wizarding World, she could only think of three people that she could associate the color with -- Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy.

_'It had to be Malfoy...'_ She thought as she resumed to place the hat on her head. Lucius Malfoy was confined in St. Mungo's shortly after a shocking episode of his closed-door trial, where it was apparent that he was suffering from Schizophrenia. He firmly denied his affiliation with Riddle, but all evidence pointed to him, so they used the Veritaserum on him. It was still a denial that he insisted; that even if the Wizengamot used the strongest Veritaserum Potion on him (courtesy of her now-beloved Potions Professor, Severus Snape) they still resorted to use the pensieve on him. From there, it went weirder and weirder, because they actually saw how the famous businessman transformed into a diabolical, scheming leader of the Death Eaters and right hand man of Voldemort. It was a plead for sanity, and it was no doubt the hospital for him, not Azkaban... Or at least, what they were made to believe. But that doesn't remove him from being a Mungo's inmate.

Narcissa Malfoy, on the other hand, was immediately cleared of all the pressed charges against her, simply because the 'other' Lucius Malfoy placed her under the Imperius Curse. She took over all of the businesses of the Malfoys while Draco finished his education, and it was just a week after their Graduation that she made half of the Black wealth be passed on to his name -- the other half being given to Nymphadora Tonks, and the Malfoy wealth being when he reached twenty-one -- and the jobs that Narcissa took place temporarily were handed to him.

It had to be Malfoy... Well, Draco Malfoy, to be specific. He was the only one visible (though very rare to catch; she was fairly sure the newspapers only featured photos of him during graduation) in the public eye, being that his mother had withdrawn from being the benevolent businesswoman to the household party-planner and mistress of the Malfoy Manor. He, on the other hand, was always in the many business meetings and gatherings that as the CEO of all their companies he must attend. He would often make it to the headlines himself, bringing about surprising changes on the wizarding stock market. But then, at that time of the day, he would be very busy with his office work.

... And besides, Malfoy wouldn't even have to go in the crowd and squeeze his way through just for some stupid Gryffindors who made it as Aurors. That Malfoy pride of his would be severely bruised...

Again, she saw a figure in dark blue robes and blond hair matching the brightness of the sun that shone immensely today. She blinked again, and then it was gone.

_'Agh... What is wrong with you, Hermione?'_ She mentally berated herself. Why was she looking for him anyway? In all her years in Hogwarts, not a day passed by without her receiving a sly remark, an irritating taunt, or just a wicked sneer from him. She would always dismiss him and walk off, though ever so often she had desperately tried to regain her self-control because her hand was practically itching to flick the wand in her pocket and hex him senseless. She didn't want to relieve her third year days.

But now, it seemed as if she was craving for the anger he alone could spur in her, hoping to see the cocky grin he always gave her and wishing desperately that he somehow showed up in every possible place to bug her off and call her _'Mudblood.'_

... She could almost hear his whiny voice when he first called her that way back second year, at the Hogwarts grounds and in front of the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams, and how for the succeeding years his usually high-pitched voice evolved slowly and became deep, matured, husky, and almost sensual...

_"... Filthy little mudblood..."_

What was happening to her? Of all the people to have train of thoughts of, she was thinking of Draco sodding Malfoy? Why is it that though he had no idea of what he was doing unintentionally, he was bugging her? What ever had the bloody git done to even earn her attention anyway? Why can't she just think of anyone else... Like, like... Draco?

Hermione was mad at herself. No matter how she used her brain to rationalize this situation she was in, her heart was already concluding that in a most unbelievable way, she missed the annoying prick.

She mentally scolded herself. She was no better than Lucius Malfoy. Next thing she knew, she'd be sitting in the same room with him, dressed in plain and immaculate white hospital robes, sipping earl gray tea from across his spot on the fancy table he demanded, and having a heated discussion over which from death by chocolate and devil's food was more chocolate. It made her want to laugh maniacally, that for a queer reason, the ever-imposing businessman and Hogwarts Governor turned paranoid schizophrenic would even consider having a conversation with, as his infamous son picked up from him, a 'filthy little mudblood.'

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione snapped out of reverie and saw a wand-like recorder being held at an angle just at her mouth level. "P-Pardon?"

The reporter gave her a confused look. "W-Well, Miss Granger. Professor Dumbledore told us that one of the Dark Arts book found in You-Know-Who's lair was given to you for translation and interpretation. Does it have anything significant that you can share?"

Hermione cast a long look at the Coffee Shop across the street, hoping for someone to give her a proof that she wasn't hallucinating. But the person she thought she saw was not there, and there was none out of the usual.

She sighed inwardly before speaking. "Well, I am yet done with the interpretation of the book, but I have translated some of it and I found out from this very interesting chapter that..."

------------------------

He stood on the edge of the dark alley beside the Ministry Coffee Shop just in front of the Ministry of Magic, hands inside the pockets of his midnight blue robes, the hat of the same hue as his robes contrasting his distinct tendrils and skin. He watched the reporters leave their beverages as they scuttled about from waiting at the booths on the sidewalk to the doors of the adjacent building. The newly ordained Aurors just came out from a meeting with the new Minister, and of course, since the ever famous Boy-Who-Lived was with them, the eyes of the whole of Wizarding London were on them. To him, it was just a waste of time to interview such a dumb person. Everyone knows that Harry Pothead is nothing without his friends.

... Or rather, without the girl who was standing right behind him and the Weasel King, and beside the stupid bloke Neville Longbottom. Why, the muggle-lover couldn't even answer a question from Snape if  
his life depended on it!

He could not understand why wizards and witches were too fond of Harry Potter. Yes, he defeated Voldemort when he was but a child, managed to eradicate his existence for good just months ago and played hero in all his Hogwarts years. He was always there to save the day. But no, he wasn't the force behind it all. He was only visible, made the savior of the world or considered the leader of the trio because he was famous for being the adorable and mighty child who outsmarted Voldemort without his own knowledge of doing such. All his oh-so-noble deeds and his and Ron Weasley's courageous feats -- and even their remarkable grades -- were nothing without the voice of reason, the tactician, and the brains behind the operation, Hermione Granger.

Draco Malfoy watched Hermione's eyes dart around nervously at the crowd that formed once they exited the oak doors of the building, looking distressed at the commotion that she knew was about to happen. He lifted an eyebrow as he saw her sigh and nudge the oblivious Weasel King, who obviously was too engrossed at the photographers taking pictures of the bloke beside him. He saw Weasley angle his head a bit in her direction and it seemed they exchanged words, before he turned to smile at the reporters.

_Agh, what a jerk,_ he heard himself say. To him what he teased Potter and Weasley before was just a joke, but it seemed that there really is something going on between the two.

His gaze landed again on Hermione, and he wasn't surprised to see that her chocolate orbs watered slightly. But the girl quickly placed the heel of both of her hands on her eyes and rubbed them to keep the tears from falling. He gripped the wand in his pocket tightly as a wave of anger overwhelmed him, his chest tightening at the sight before him.

_What airheads,_ he thought. And they call themselves her best friends...

Draco saw Hermione blink, and when she opened her eyes, he felt her stare at him. Instinctively he stepped back into the shadows, hiding himself. Why he hid he didn't know, but he felt anxious when her gaze seemed to have landed on his. From his place, he could still see Hermione as she frowned slightly before foolishly shaking her head vigorously, dropping her long, white, Auror hat in the process. She moved to retrieve the fallen item, but Draco was sure she was eyeing the citizens warily. She replaced her hat, still looking pensive, not even noticing the reporter holding out his recorder to record her response to his question.

In all of his Hogwarts years, Draco couldn't understand why Hermione Granger was always better than him. He assumed it was because she had no other thing to do than read and memorize, and no life out of her social circle composed of her two _"best friends,"_ the Weaselette and her occasional companion Longbottom. He suspected she wouldn't even be close to her roommates. Those Gryffindor girls were no different from the girls in his house, who often gushed about fashion, cosmetics and boys (and him) and spared only half a minute to look into their schoolbags.

And he found his suspicions to be true when she became the Head Girl alongside him, because she only went out of their dormitory to head to her classes, to take meals, and to preside over prefect meetings. She was always hunched on the table scribbling the night away with lectures, essays, assignments and whatever he didn't know, or curled up on the couch in their common room reading a huge tome. She wouldn't even lift her head from her work to acknowledge his presence the first few weeks of Seventh year.

But now, it was different.

Somehow, during the ten months they spent sharing a common room, they became less hostile towards each other. In fact, it could be called civil, for they talked to each other occasionally regarding head duties. He could even consider her as a friend if not for her bodyguards/boyfriends/best friends following her around. Figures, he thought, because he knew that once she acknowledged him as a friend, Potter and Weasley would be furious, and their male pride would be very bruised. Ah, he was but male, too. Everyone knows that a man's pride matters. So instead of making her feel like she became close to him and broke through the barriers of his personality, he often treated her like he always did, however he disliked the idea... And he found himself wondering why he even disliked the idea of treating her just the same.

It was odd, but he felt drawn to her ever since. He would feel his anger rising whenever she was left behind by the other two, or when they approach her only when the quizzes and practical tests and exams were nearing, or when they would force her out of her room to squeeze some of her bright ideas. Was that what they saw in her? A huge reference material? And to think they claim to be her best friends! Why, if Hermione only knew...!

Draco continued watching the scene before him and waited for the crowd to disperse before heading to his personal coach parked at the other end of the dark alley he was standing on. After the meeting with the new Minister, he had somewhere else to go to.

------------------------

"Sorry Hermione, but we really have to go now." Harry stood up from his chair before leaning over to give Hermione a kiss on her cheek. "I hope you forgave us about... You know that we couldn't do anything."

_'Hah, it's because you WOULDN'T do anything,'_ Hermione thought darkly.

Ron stood up from his chair beside Harry and did the same. "You understand, do you? I mean, it's something--"

_'Understand? Kindly enlighten me!'_ She wanted to retort, but she held the thought back. "It's okay, Ron." Hermione said pointedly. "Be careful though, you two. I don't want your corpses being sent to me in rectangular boxes and be the one responsible to break the news to the Weasleys and the Dursleys." She smiled at the two.

"We won't die, I promise!" Ron threw his coat on.

_'Just make sure of that...'_

"Don't worry, 'Mione. We'll bring home something for you from Germany." Harry smiled back.

_'Oh no, you wouldn't,'_ the voice inside her head commented. "Harry, it's all right. Now run along, little kids. I'm sure Percy's waiting for the top Aurors."

Harry and Ron began to walk away from the corner booth they were sitting at before Ron turned. "Uh, you'll pay for the butterbeer, right?"

Hermione laughed at him. "Yes, yes, I will. Now go away!"

The two boys left the Three Broomsticks without even a single glance back at her. Once they were out of sight, Hermione's smile faded almost instantly, and she glared at the chair that the two once sat at.

It was always like this. All she had to do was to pretend to be all right, and they would leave without even so much as a backward glance at her. Don't they even realize that they're where they are now because she didn't give up on them? Don't they owe all that they have now to her?

No, Hermione didn't want to actually count everything she did for them, but she couldn't help it. They became the top two Aurors because she taught them all those advanced spells, charms and potions that they didn't know; shared her notes with them and allowed them to copy her assignments and essays so that they would get an O in their subjects; she even broke a very strict rule of cheating just to help them answer ninety percent of the questions in the Auror examination! And now, they couldn't even do her a favor of thanking her for always going out of her way just to help them?

She finished her mug of butterbeer and placed it gently back on the table. "It's unfair..." She mumbled silently. She was always stuck with the two of them. Sure, she loved both of them, but to become someone else just for their sake... She wasn't a martyr! She wasn't a depressed girl! She wasn't an introvert! But no, since she had to bear with them, she was forced to be what she was now. She couldn't talk about school or books or even about herself when they were around! It was always all about them or their dreams of being an Auror; even Quidditch was a better topic for them than her problems. Whereas the two have their own girl friends, she hasn't got anyone because the other boys out there couldn't approach her for Harry and Ron were much too intimidating. (Or others think one of them was her special someone) Hermione choked back a sob. But she wouldn't cry in public, she'd just make it to the headlines.

_'Muggle-born Witch Granger Dumped by Boy-Who-Lived'_

... How infuriating! She grabbed her book instead and began to read. But she can't help but think about her situation...

Physically, she may be part of the Golden Gryffindor Trio, but in all other aspects, she wasn't anymore...

------------------------

The bells on the door clinked against each other when he entered the shop a little while later; he was fed up with watching her from the window of his coach and through the hazy glass walls of the shop. He was already devising a way to shoo off Potter and Weasley when just then the two stood up and walked out of the establishment. He was wondering why they left, but then he remembered that the two would be sent to Germany for a very important Ministry affair together with the third Weasley. _Wait... Wasn't Hermione the top Auror...?_ Ah, yes... Boy-Who-Lived and his sidekick WERE the top Aurors. What a joke. Why, if he had taken that examination... If she hadn't made them copy those answers, which he was sure she did...

He shook his head as he walked past the fireplace. No time to think of those two... "Such nuisance," he mumbled. It was a good thing they left… All the more chances for him to talk to her.

Draco walked up to the corner booth where Hermione sat, the latter not even noticing his approach. _Why, she is frowning again,_ he thought. _Was there ever a time that she actually smiled?_ He slipped in on the seat across her, the chair where Harry sat earlier. He wasn't surprised when she didn't even notice him there. He knew from experience that Hermione Granger could not be disturbed in her reading session, because she was always too absorbed in her books.

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger."

------------------------

_"... At every performance for the rest of that month, I prepared for my entrance in the same way, by concentrating on "The Courtier Returns to His Wife," until I could feel the sadness laying itself over me. We human beings have a remarkable way of growing accustomed to things; but when I pictured Mameha dancing her slow lament, hidden from the eyes of the husband and his mistress, I could no more have stopped myself from feeling that sadness than you could stop yourself from smelling an apple that has been cut open on the table before you..."_

Hermione read aloud as she tried to understand the book she brought along with her before going to the Ministry, but her mind kept on drifting and drifting back to her problems. Will she ever be actually happy?

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger."

She suddenly looked up from her work and couldn't help but drop the book accidentally on the table when she heard a masculine voice talking to her.

"M-M-Malfoy?!" She asked incredulously. "W-What are you doing here?" She swallowed, clearing her throat as she spoke her next question firmer. "... What do you want?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "A drink... Frankly, I miss the usual beverage I always had during Hogsmeade weekends... And why is it that your precious boyfriends aren't with you? Finally realized you weren't worth their time?"

Hermione frowned. "They're not my boyfriends, you know that. And why are you here anyway? Don't you have any other place to sit on?" She snapped back.

"Many customers at this time, obviously. I was actually aiming for a spot in the bar there," He gestured. "But there's no other left. And since we're... Old schoolmates and acquaintances... I was hoping you'd be gracious enough to, say, share the booth. You don't mind that, do you?" He smirked.

Hermione was irritated yet glad at the same time. In these changing times, she knew she could count on Malfoy to be the slimy git he always is. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she set her mouth straight, before grabbing her fallen book and opening it again. "Fine. Just don't bother me."

Draco smiled even wider at her, before calling the waiter. "A glass of firewhiskey... No, no. Make that two." He said before dismissing the waiter and casting his gaze back at Hermione. He eyed her, and sure enough, she didn't even notice him at all.

Hermione was aware of his eyes on her, and she can't help but be conscious of his gaze. What was he staring at? Was he scrutinizing her? Was he--

Deciding to grab her attention, he reached out his hand to grab the book. "What have we got here?"

She felt her book being plucked out of her hands and she instinctively clucked her tongue in annoyance. "Give it here, Malfoy." She said calmly.

Draco flipped the book to read the title. "_Memoirs of A Geisha_... A muggle book. Never pegged you as one for romance novels, Granger." He taunted.

"It's nothing like that, Malfoy. Unlike you, I happen to know how to choose substantial books. Which reminds me, what is your favorite book? _'How To Conquer the Wizarding World in Eighty Days' _by Tom Marvolo Riddle?" She retorted as she made to grab her book back.

Draco evaded her grasping hand. "I happen to know how to pick substantial books." He shot back. "And to answer your question, I love to read _'The Alchemist,' 'The Da Vinci Code,' 'Angels and Demons,'_ and a lot of Shakespeare's works. I don't read crappy and useless ones." He smirked yet again.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You haven't changed a bit, Malfoy. Same old conceited git."

The waiter came back with the two firewhiskeys he ordered and left immediately. Draco sighed dramatically. "I am wounded by your accusations, dear Hermione. You think so low of me."

"Aren't you?" She taunted, before successfully retrieving her book from him. "Now bugger off." She unconsciously reached for the firewhiskey set in front of her.

Draco smirked from behind his drink, and his smirk grew when Hermione winced and set down her book to look at her drink.

"Firewhiskey? But I was drinking..." She trailed off, before glancing at her empty mug of butterbeer beside the mug of firewhiskey. She looked up at Draco, who was staring at her bemusedly. "Are you trying to poison me?"

Draco shook his head. "No..."

"Then what's this?"

"Well, you reached for my other drink..." He pointed at the glass in her hand. "I was saving that."

Hermione had the decency to look abashed. "Oh... Sorry. I'll pay for it." She said almost in a whisper.

Draco smiled triumphantly. "No, that was actually for you."

Hermione looked at him skeptically before huffing. "Okay, what are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing, Granger."

"Of course, you aren't!" She exclaimed. "Because your idea of playing is throwing hexes and  
Unforgiveables at your opponents!" She glared at him, hazel eyes flashing angrily.

"Look, I'm trying to be civil here. It was just a bloody drink! Merlin's beard, Granger. You're making a big fuss about a firewhiskey!" He retorted exasperatedly. "It was just for old time's sake. Was it that bad?" He matched her gaze with his gray stone cold stare.

A heavy silence ensued between the two, although it was anything but in the shop. Good thing the shop was too noisy to hear the two of them shouting at each other just a while ago.

Hermione's shoulders sagged in resignation as she averted her eyes. "Fine, fine. Just... Please, mind your own business, okay?" She half-pleaded, half-commanded. She looked up at him. She was already having a lot of difficulty carrying her problems and hiding them from the world, yet here he was, bugging her and making her go crazy. If only he would try to reach out to her...

Hermione chided herself silently. Malfoy... _Ah, if that happens, then the sky must be falling...!_

Draco simply shrugged and gazed out at the street. She wanted to sound defiant, but he heard the faintest exhaustion in her almost-pleading voice. Did she really mean that? Did she really want nobody to know her worries? "Suit yourself, Granger."

Hermione was baffled at his answer. Why was it that Malfoy looked like he knew something she didn't? Ignoring the nagging feeling inside her, she resumed reading her book.

A few minutes and another round of firewhiskey later, Draco spoke. "I have a question." He set down his mug on the table to look at her.

Hermione looked up at Draco from behind her book. "What? And be sure it's sensible enough."

"I take pride in indulging in sensible conversations, Granger." He retorted. He saw Hermione roll her eyes and then shrug, and taking this as a signal, he continued. "After graduating with the highest honors, achieving your dreams of being an Auror, and being able to aid in the Dark Lord's demise, is there anything you still want?"

Hermione paused from her reading, but she didn't place her book down. "Well... No. I think I don't want anything else... I think I have everything I nee--"

"Do you? I mean, need nothing more?" Draco prodded on.

"No... As far as I am concerned, I have nothing in my life that I find unsatisfactory."

"Ah," He nodded, as if dealing with an executive. "And you're happy now?"

Hermione stopped reading altogether, but she pretended to still be engrossed at the book. _Am I happy?_ She asked herself. She didn't need to let Malfoy know that she was actually weighing his words, but she figured not looking at him would make it look like she was. So, she summoned her self-confidence and brought herself to look at him squarely and with as much conviction as she could muster, she responded. "Y-Yes. I'm quite happy... Are you? I mean, happy?" She asked in return, but quickly realized the error of her words. "Ah, but of course. What with the positions, stocks and wealth you now possess... That was foolish of me." She laughed humorlessly.

Draco pushed her book down, forcing her to look at him. Her almond eyes looked at him unguarded, and he quickly recognized the hesitation she was feeling. He knew she was not happy, yes. But what about, he didn't know. He wasn't used to comforting friends, since all of his friends were just a bunch of emotionless freaks (or emotional hapless girl like Pansy) but somehow he recognized that look... That look that he often saw whenever he was facing his mirror...

"You're not happy, Granger."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed repeatedly as she tried to answer back, but to no avail. For the first time in her life, someone actually read her accurately. Was this some special talent that Malfoy possessed -- and used -- to easily read his enemy's personality? "How can you say that? You don't even know me like my friends do!" Hermione couldn't keep her voice from rising.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "I don't?" He mocked her. "Oh, yes. I do not know you. After all, I am but the insufferable git that made all of your Hogwarts years miserable. Who am I to know you when your so-called friends don't even spare a moment from their precious time to understand you?"

"Don't talk about my friends that way!" Hermione bellowed, though she felt like shrinking in her seat. How could someone know that much about her? Especially Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin King and pompous bloke that had nothing else to do than piss her off? It made her feel vulnerable in his eyes. Was this how the Malfoys manipulated people? By using their unusual silver gray eyes to read the secrets and emotions that lay hidden and shrouded beneath a person's façade? "They... They are not like that..." Not being able to look at Draco, she fixed her gaze on the edge of the table, where her hands were gripping the sides of it tightly.

_'Damn those two,'_ he heard his mind say. After all the times that they left her like an old rag, she still chose to defend them? What happened to that levelheaded, rational and reasonable Gryffindor he knew in Hogwarts? Sighing tiredly outwardly but seething with contempt within, Draco grabbed the mug from across him and took a swig of Hermione's firewhiskey before pulling himself up on his feet. He plastered a sneer on his handsome features. "It was nice having a drink with you, Granger. I'm looking forward to meeting you again next time." He drawled out lazily.

Hermione looked up from her place, taking in Draco's tall frame. Somehow, his towering height made her feel so small. Even if Ron and Harry were like twin towers when they stood on either sides of her, they never really looked that tall. Unlike Draco, they weren't imposing and confident. Even the air around Draco was full of dignity and his mere posture demanded respect. He was intimidating, to say the least. So intimidating that she couldn't find the words to say to him. She couldn't help but feel inferior to him so she quickly looked down and focused her gaze on the empty mugs.

Draco nodded slightly at her and tipped his hat; a parting gesture, though she didn't see it. He then walked away from a now-silent Hermione. Well, he wasn't successful today, but there will always be another time... And he'll make sure of that.

------------------------

»Some Additional Notes«

_"Give it here, Malfoy."_ - Harry Potter, from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. A very D/H moment. I'm a big Draco/Harry fan, you know... Actually, I'm a Draco fan all in all. I'm a worshipper of Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione, Draco/Ginny, Draco/Pansy, Draco/Snape... Just not Draco/Ron or Draco/Neville! - And I see myself as Hermione in this fic too... Very boring and very used... -; But that's beside the point... But all in all D/H and D/Hr rocks!

_"... At every performance for the rest of that month, I prepared for my entrance in the same way, by concentrating on "The Courtier Returns to His Wife," until I could feel the sadness laying itself over me. We human beings have a remarkable way of growing accustomed to things; but when I pictured Mameha dancing her slow lament, hidden from the eyes of the husband and his mistress, I could no more have stopped myself from feeling that sadness than you could stop yourself from smelling an apple that has been cut open on the table before you..."_ - This is an excerpt from one of my favorite books, Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden. Chapter 23, page 268, third paragraph of the Vintage Contemporaries Edition, which was printed in July 1998. I babbled a lot just so I wouldn't be accused of unauthorized use of this particular paragraph. It's just that the novel is very captivating...

A/N: Review! Please! - And Happy Christmas to everyone! I just love how I made Lucius a schizo… He's such a biseinen… ::squees::


	2. Shutting From The Sky

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Verse One: Shutting From the Sky_

__

Beauty queen of only eighteen

_She had some trouble with herself_

_He was always there to help her_

_She always belonged to someone else_

Once the doors indicated his departure, Hermione slumped further in her chair. Why did Malfoy have to be so arrogant? Sure, she was partly thankful for the distraction he was supposed to provide; that was why she let him sit with her. Draco Malfoy was supposed to take her mind off of Harry and Ron, of Aurors, of her post-Hogwarts sickness, of everything that seemed so complicated in her present situation. But no, he had to go strike up a conversation regarding what she wanted to forget. _'That insensitive prat...'_ Can't he be sensitive for once?

Wait. Why was she associating that adjective with him? Of course, ever since first year he was always cold and indifferent when it came to others. What else should she expect? That he came there on purpose to comfort her and, even in the most unimaginative way, make her feel like she was wanted because of who she really was? That she wasn't only Harry's shadow, or the muggle-born genius?

_'Argh!'_ What was she doing? She was supposed to feel vexed at Malfoy, but what was she doing now? And for the second time that day, of all the people to think about...! Why did he have to show up at the wrong time? Why did he have to act like he knew her? What is he trying to do by suddenly entering the picture? And why did he look much taller and much more good-looking than the last time she saw him?

__

'Get a grip of yourself, Hermione!' She was shocked to find that her thoughts were leading to supposed-to-be not-to-be-breached boundaries, and she felt mortified. Hermione slammed her open palm on the table as she stood and gathered her things, earning a little attention from the neighboring booth. She sent a death glare at the teenager seated there and smirked evilly (Malfoyishly, though she was unaware of it) before walking up to the counter. She dug her hands through her purse to pay for the butterbeers earlier and for the firewhiskeys that the stupid prick left for her to pay. "Here's the payment. Corner booth over there." She gestured to the cashier before slipping the coins across the counter. "That's three sickles and seventeen knuts, right?"

"Oh no," the girl, who was obviously the cashier, pushed the money towards her. "You've already paid."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "No I didn't..."

"Yes you did! Well... Your companion did." The girl giggled. "In fact, he didn't even wait for his change. If you would be so kind, could you please return the change to him?" The girl handed her seven galleons and nine sickles. "And he told me to give this to you, too. Is he your boyfriend?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the girl, who obviously looked giddy all over. She received the change and the thin rectangular card being given to her.

It was obvious that the certain someone who the girl saw was Malfoy. Judging by the amount of money on her hands, the filthy rich Slytherin paid too much again. Ron or Harry wouldn't really pay for those butterbeers they drank if they knew she would pay, and just from the coins in her hands... It wasn't that difficult to figure out.

... And sweet Merlin, he even paid for Harry and Ron's butterbeers! _'Has Malfoy gone nutters?'_

She slipped the coins in the back pocket of her purse, gave her thanks to the girl and then headed out of the Three Broomsticks. She figured it best to just walk home instead of apparating or riding a carriage, since her humble flat located at Niveus Estage was only a fifteen-minute walk from Hogsmeade. And besides, she felt like thinking... Walks usually provided her with calmness or even answers to the burning questions she always had in her quote supposedly humongous unquote brain, as Rita Skeeter would always write in her articles.

While walking homeward, she fiddled with the card that Malfoy asked the girl to give her. It was just a card... White, stiff and had absolutely nothing on it -- no numbers, no letters, no doodles or anything on it... Just a card...

_'Maybe I'll just have to use a revealing spell later...'_ She thought while pocketing the card. She walked by briskly; peeved at the fact that wizards and witches were watching her closely, as if expecting Harry or Ron to show up with a pop. She also fought the urge to enter Flourish and Blott's, which she passed on her way to her flat, where a new book called _'Successful Wizards and Witches of the Twentieth Century'_ was on display. No doubt, she would get much from that. But she convinced herself that she had other... Pressing matters that she had to attend to, like, like... Malfoy?

Ugh. Maybe ::she:: was the one who had gone nutters.

A few minutes later, Hermione stopped in front of a small and low brass gate that had the number 14 on it. She fished out her huge key to unlock the muggle contraption hanging on the chains, and then brought out her oak wand to remove the locking spells she used to bolt the gate. After finally applying every unlocking technique -- both muggle and wizarding -- on the house gates, she walked up to her front step and unlocked the door. Pushing the door open and removing her cloak, she was surprised to see a white owl perched on the counter, a parchment in its grasp and a wrapped package beside it. In the living room, she saw Crookshanks look up from her ever-long nap. It noticed Hermione enter, before it yawned and went back again to his slumber.

She rolled her eyes at her pet before heading towards the counter. "Hedwig, how did you get in?" She asked the owl as she rummaged through her jars for an owl treat. Finding some, she fed the white owl before untying the parchment attached to it, eyed the parcel closely and then unrolled the letter.

_'Mione,_

__

I didn't know we were supposed to be here for more than a month, so I'd like to apologize. I know you wouldn't be much busy yet, after all, we're still new, and you would probably miss us, so I guess you could use a little cheering up with this book we bought you from Flourish and Blott's. I figured you would also need some company, since Ginny is still at Hogwarts and shouldn't be moving in with you until she graduates. I hope this will help you feel better. After all, is there not a book my beloved Hermione loves?

__

And we're really disappointed that we couldn't spend Christmas there with you. It's our first Christmas together outside of Hogwarts, and we still couldn't make it. Push through with the plans on gathering our housemates on Christmas Eve; they'll love that. We'll just be giving you our gifts when we come back.

__

Do take care of yourself, Hermione. Eat more; you're too thin. I wouldn't want you to end up so thin like my Aunt Petunia. Ron reckons you're having an eating disorder. You should be well when we return, okay?

__

I'll miss you very much, and right now, I'd describe it as terribly missing you.

__

All my love,

__

Harry

__

PS: You'd take care of Hedwig, right? Pigwidgeon's back at the Burrow, because we know there's only one cage there in your flat. And regards to dear old Crookshanks.

Hermione rolled up the letter and almost crushed it. Was this some kind of incentive for her? Of course, she was easy to read. Practically everyone in Wizarding London knew that Hermione Granger could never resist books. That was something she couldn't deny. But then... Was she just like that? Just the bookworm and nothing else?

She pushed the nagging thoughts away as she reached for the parcel that rested on the counter. One would say that there was something going on between her and Harry by reading the letter, but it was nothing more than words... Words that never really meant anything... She pulled on the strings and tore the wrappings roughly, wishing it were the emotions she desperately wanted to forget, but she can't help but smile through her tears when she saw the book that Harry and Ron bought for her. It was the book at display in Flourish and Blott's she had been eyeing just that afternoon. Somehow, in the back of her mind, she still believed that Harry and Ron actually cared for her, even for just a little.

She moved to place Hedwig on a stand-alone cage near the fireplace that she especially bought for when Harry or Ron would leave their owls to her. She already anticipated that, and the cage wasn't really something she regretted purchasing for she was planning to get herself her own owl too. But for now, Hedwig will do. She placed Hedwig in the cage, sprinkled some owl treats inside the food tray and patted the owl's white furs, before closing it again and sitting on the plush couch across the furnace. Crookshanks immediately jumped up on her lap, and her hand moved through his furs, like she always did whenever she was contemplating.

Crookshanks stretched on her lap languidly, purring in delight as Hermione's long digits treaded through his furs.

Hermione flicked her wand towards the furnace and mumbled 'Incendio,' and instantly a small burst of fire lighted the dark place and slightly warmed the cold flat. She sighed audibly and slumped against the backrest. The autumn rain left a comfortable cold atmosphere in her flat, and it made her feel a little less lonely. Her eyes traveled the space of her living room, and lingered on the top of the furnace. It was filled with frames that contained pictures of her and her parents, but most of the pictures were of her, Ron and Harry. Her gaze especially lingered on the picture hanging on the wall beside the fireplace, where she had a moving picture of her and Harry during Fifth year. He was still dressed in his Quidditch robes after a successful game against Ravenclaw, and she remembered flying down the stairs from the seats to greet him... Only to be scooped into his lanky arms. The feeling was different from their usual embraces with Ron, because then, she had harbored feelings for Harry. But now, it was not like that anymore, and if she hadn't known better Harry became distant when he knew she got over her infatuation with him.

Now she wished she just fell in love with him instead; maybe he'd give her the same attention that he did way back then. But he -- they -- never really thought of her as much as she thought of them -- their whereabouts, their health and their safety. It was always through those hollow kisses, reluctant embraces and meaningless words that they ::show:: their less than meager amount of concern.

"Crookshanks..." She laughed, a hollow, mirthless one. "They would never know..." She stared at the fire listlessly.

The feline emitted an almost-gruff sounding meow before jumping and landing soundlessly on the red Persian rug on the floor.

Hermione sat there for minutes, her eyes straying from the pictures and staring blankly at the tongues of fire licking the walls of the fireplace. She took a shuddering breath, and then slumped forward on her seat, before she whimpered softly, shook visibly and released the long-suppressed tears.

The lack of warmth just made her feel alone, although she wouldn't admit that out loud. However she convinced herself that she wasn't lonely and would go on with life even without Harry and Ron, her loneliness was far more than she could handle. How she wished that she had made more friends in Hogwarts... She should have been friendlier instead of excessively concentrating on her studies, so she would have others who would understand her right now... Like girl friends... Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Mandy, Hannah, Millicent or even Pansy...

------------------------

Draco twirled his silver quill on his right hand while he drummed softly on the armrest with the other, his feet propped up on the huge mahogany table. He swiveled his chair here and there, his gaze scanning the viridian and platinum walls of his office in the Malfoy tower.

He abruptly stopped his chair from spinning and stood up, dropping the quill back on the work desk in the process. He walked towards the huge window, drew back the green curtains, and gazed downwards and beyond the gate. The window was foggy; drops of late autumn rain dribbled against the glass barriers, dripping down the smooth surface of the window unhurriedly. The streets were busy, and people were rushing about to and fro, even at the light shower falling from the sky. Horse and Thestral-drawn carriages rode by quickly, not even avoiding puddles of water and splattering mud all over the road...

_... Mud..._

Draco couldn't help but think about how bad and immature he had been in his years in Hogwarts. He never really outgrew his sarcastic side, but when it comes to how he treated her...

"... Now if someone here would just sign these papers, then he could go back to his sentimental reminiscence at once."

He tore his eyes from the scene before him and looked to where the voice came from. He ran his hand through his short-trimmed hair (which by now wasn't full of gel, mind you) and sighed aloud. "What now, Pansy?"

"Hello to you too, Draco." Pansy smiled softly. "Don't worry, I know you're worried, or pretending to be not, but this will only take a while. Father sent me to make you sign these papers." She handed the folder to him and sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

"What's this about?" He asked as he, too, took a seat on the swivel chair behind the table, grabbed his silver quill, and began to read.

Pansy straightened her deep purple dress robe before answering. "Oh, you know... About those shares you're to buy from our corporation. He's quite excited about that deal. If he wasn't my father I would think he's taken a liking on you, what with all his'Draco this' and'Draco that' that he always babbles during dinner. Honestly, isn't there any other guy out there that he wants to set me up with?"

Draco quickly scanned the papers while Pansy waited. "Well, can't say that I'm the one to be blamed. After all, looks, wit and charm come naturally to all Malfoys." He retorted, smirking at the papers. "I'm the most eligible bachelor to ever walk on earth, don't you agree?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Yeah... Right... Now sign those papers. Your huge ego isn't required for signing that."

Draco lifted his gaze at her, throwing her his most charming smile that he knew wouldn't draw her to him but just irritate her, before he began signing the papers and handing it back to her.

Pansy studied the documents and placed it back on the folder. "That's about it..." She stood and walked around the table, then bent down to give a kiss on Draco's cheek. "You worry too much, Draco."

He feigned a very bored expression. "Really now, Pansy." He squeezed her shoulder in return before  
leaning totally at the backrest, drawing his eyebrows together in concentration.

Pansy stood beside the chair, studying her childhood friend's face. She had never seen Draco this troubled, only when Lucius Malfoy was sent to Azkaban in their fifth year and tried in front of the Wizengamot. He was always full of confidence, self-control and composure; he always had a contingency plan in case the other plan failed. He would just dismiss other matters that would have made her fret over. How could she not notice these when they have known each other for almost nineteen years, and went to the same school for twelve of those?

But she wasn't his childhood friend for nothing. In fact, she had inkling as to what -- or who -- was getting him all worked up. "A galleon for your thoughts, Draco?"

Draco looked up at her from staring intently at the intricate carvings of the table. "Higher, Pansy. My thoughts are much more expensive than that." He smirked.

But Pansy saw that his smirk was somehow wistful. "Really? They must be, because I can sense that you lack the usual enthusiasm you have whenever you sneer."

"Go away, Pansy. Your father's waiting for those papers." He told her.

"Not until I know what's bothering my Draco. Come on, you think I don't know you by now? We've been friends ever since we were born." She retorted as she dragged the chair on the other side of the desk to Draco's side.

"It's nothing."

But she being Pansy, she sat on the chair and began to interrogate him. "Nothing? Then surely you could  
tell me what this nonsense is all about."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Look, it's nothing, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Good." Draco proceeded to sift through his papers again.

"... Uh, Draco?" Pansy called him a few minutes later.

"Hmmm?" Draco answered, though he didn't look back at her.

"Bet you for fifty galleons I could guess what's bothering you..." She sneered at him, one she learned from hanging out too much with him.

He side glanced at Pansy, but he simply went back to going through his papers. "Nothing's bothering me, Pansy."

"Oh... So, it wouldn't matter if I told you that Granger's ever-loyal bodyguards left her for Germany and she now lives alone in her flat? And that Krum's interest in her is all over Witch Weekly? And that he's probably just using her to become the talk of the town?" She flipped her now long black hair at her back.

Draco's hands froze.

Pansy's sneer couldn't have gone wider. "Oh well, what am I saying anyway? You wouldn't want anything to do with that filthy little mu--"

"Desist, Pansy." He cut her off, his fingers unconsciously crumpling the paper on top of the folder as he balled his fists.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "And since when did my precious Draco decide to stop me from calling Granger as what I have picked up on him, that she is," she stopped for dramatic effect, "a filthy little mudb--"

"I said ::desist::, Pansy." Draco snarled and glared at her.

"Gotcha." Pansy's eyes danced with mischief as she reached out her hand to straighten Draco's creased collar. "You don't have to deny it, Draco." She shook her head as she patted his shoulder. "I know you far too well. You were following Hermione ever since we came out from Hogwarts. And don't go denying that, I ::know:: it."

Draco sat unmoving, taking in the situation. So, Pansy knew...? Wait, she even called her...

"Since when did you start calling Hermi-- Granger, Hermione?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

She stood up from the chair and walked towards the huge window across the fireplace. "I have a reputation to keep, just like a certain someone out there." She turned her head to look at him briefly before returning her gaze outside. "I've been on... Let's say, friendly terms... With her since Sixth year, when Sinistra asked her to tutor me on Advanced Astronomy. I was lagging behind the class, so he told Hermione to help me." She turned around totally, amused to see Draco frazzled, though only the slightest of it showed. "You're not the only one who is on good terms with her, Draco."

"Well, everything's just for the sake of the old croon Dumbledore's inter-house unity law. And Head duties compelled me to do so. I don't have to associate myself with her after that."

"Oh puh-leeze, Draco. You know for yourself that house rivalries and blood classification were totally pointless." She scoffed. "And... Head duties? Have you ever done yours?"

Draco glared at her from his seat. "I suppose you know the way out, Ms. Parkinson. Feel free to show yourself out of my office."

"Oh, all right... I'll just see you tomorrow then." Pansy shrugged resignedly as she relented, and crossed the room to head towards the door, her purple robes grazing the carpeted floor. She placed her hand on the gold doorknob and turned it open. "Just one more thing, Draco." She stopped to turn around. "Do try to be true to yourself now. No one's dictating what you have to do anymore, and the sad excuse of a Dark Lord has gone to rot in Hell. He couldn't place any horrid mark on you like he did to Uncle Lucius, and we all have been given a second chance. Not everyone gets that." She smiled, this time her face framed by her blond curls, was grazed with a soft smile that made her look more beautiful, and she closed the door behind her.

She didn't see Draco's hand unclench, and his eyes turn a soft hue of gray as her words lingered in the room.

_…Do try to be true to yourself… We all have been given a second chance…_

------------------------

»Some Additional Notes«

Niveus Estage - it is something I made up, (duh -;) because I'm tired of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Grimmauld Place, The Burrow, and all those Hogsmeade-Hogwarts stuff. Vaguely, Niveus means "snow-colored," coming from the stem "nix," synonymous to snow in Latin. I'm not someone fluent (or even knowledgeable enough) in the Latin language, so I'm not quite sure. All I know is that the affixes of the nouns are changed depending on the use of the noun. For instance, the Imperius Curse, when thrown, becomes "Imperio" and so with the Patronus, it becomes "Patronum." Gotta love Encarta and my Linguistics professor for that... Actually, you could easily derive this from the English words, since most of it was derived from Latin. Uh, I'm just babbling. -

A/N: Another chapter done here… Review, please?! It's Christmas anyway…


	3. A Silent Letter

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R (but not yet)

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Verse Two: A Silent Letter_

__

I drove for miles and miles

_And wound up on your door_

_I've had you so many times but_

_Somehow I want more_

Hermione jolted out of her slumber, and let out a small scream as she fell on the floor. She sat up and gazed around, and was surprised to find herself in her living room.

She brushed herself up and looked at the old grandfather clock she transfigured from home, and noticed that it was already eight in the evening. She was thirsty, Hedwig was hooting loudly, already complaining about her empty tray of food, and Crookshanks was nuzzling her leg. She walked to her kitchen and fixed something for Hedwig and Crookshanks, fed them, before washing her hands and brewing herself some tea.

The moment her tea was brewed, she dragged a stool towards the counter and sat down on it. On the counter still sat the letter Hedwig brought her, crumpled and almost crushed. She reached out and straightened the parchment, and then took a sip from her tea.

While drinking, she reread the letter Harry wrote her.

__

... I know you wouldn't be much busy yet... and you would probably miss us... could use a little cheering up with this book...

The letter made her feel like a lost case. It was like she was considered a widowed woman who had tendencies to kill herself due to depression... So she was depressed, yes, but widowed and had suicidal tendencies… That was something unlikely to happen just yet. True, she wasn't busy yet, but still, being an Auror means being prepared for anything, being able to sense trouble and being quick enough rush to the scene even if your whole new sex life is on the line.

Sure, they were the newest recruits... And if she had known better, the Ministry made Harry and Ron take those exams just for the sake of formality. Everyone had been waiting for class 1998 to graduate, so they'd be able to sleep soundly, knowing well that Harry Potter and his friends were there to defend them against the clutches of evil. But to her it looked like the Ministry was too confident in him. Harry is only eighteen, for goodness' sake. He should have been enjoying his life as a teenager, not always worrying about a destiny that will eventually make him miserable. He was already deprived of a happy childhood, and yet everyone didn't seem to mind. She had wanted to say those things to Harry, to make him consider playing as the Seeker for the Chudley Cannons instead (though Quidditch talk was still not her cup of tea), but he insisted that he wanted to save lives. Does he really want that? To save and save until eventually, he cannot rescue himself from sinking in the pit of despair? Was this what she couldn't prevent Harry from becoming? Was he not aware that she was protecting him all along, simply because she cared for him?

She pushed the sordid thoughts at the back of her mind. She was far too stressed; too many things have been going on inside of her. Different emotions have been plaguing her for years now, and she still doesn't see the logic of leaving Harry and Ron behind. She'd only be the miserable one.

She continued to read the letter.

__

... Push through with the plans on gathering our housemates on Christmas Eve; they'll love that...

Hermione suddenly felt like a first year Gryffindor, and she almost thought she saw the light of a light bulb go up above her head. She stood up from the counter and headed towards her bedroom, cup of tea in hand, and sat down on her desk. Christmas Eve should do the trick...

Placing her tea down on the coaster, she pulled out a stack of parchment from the drawers, grabbed the phoenix quill that Ginny gave her as her graduation gift, and the bottle of scarlet ink she bought earlier that week.

It was a wonderful idea that she, Ron and Harry had come up to in order to have some sort of reunion for all of the Gryffindors in their year. They thought of a little get together for some pumpkin pies, butterbeers and firewhiskeys as a way of celebrating the holidays, and they have actually planned everything already. But then, the Order from the Ministry and Harry's letter brought her bad news.

But even if the letter was kind of disappointing, the letter, too, gave her another bright idea. (Does our lovely Gryffindor ever run out of it?)

She would push through with the party, yes. But it wouldn't be just the Gryffindors. She was sure that inter-house relationships should not stop in their graduation, but should continue even outside of Hogwarts.

Hermione began to write a list of who to invite. 'Now there's Neville, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender, Dean, Terry, Mandy, Padma, Hannah, Justin...'

After her tea had gone cold and her hands hurt from writing (she is an ambidextrous), she inhaled sleepily, her yawn mingling with her sigh. She stared at the rolled parchments to her right, and ran over her checklist to verify if she had written to everyone. She found out that she had indeed almost finished her invitation, and there was only one left to write -- one she purposefully set aside to write the last. Determined to finish it, she grabbed a parchment and dipped the end of her quill in the bottle of ink, and began to write her scarlet-colored cursive on the paper.

__

Dearest Pansy,

__

It's been long since we've got a chance to talk, and I'm hoping that you're in good condition. I'd be glad if we could have a chat some time over butterbeer, you know, to catch up... Remember the girly shriek that Professor Sinistra let out on our Finals? Or the luck running out on Sprout when the Venus flytrap suddenly lunged for her hands? I'd love to hear your other stories... The Slytherin side, that is.

__

If you are not busy, I have a little get-together for all of us on Christmas Eve here in my flat at Niveus Estage. I just wanted to see you all for the Holidays, and I hope you could drop by, though I know my flat isn't as grand as yours. The other students are also invited. I'm sure you agree with me that inter-house relationships should be maintained, right? I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Pansy.

__

With Love,

__

Hermione Granger

She proofread the letter again, and smiled when she found nothing wrong in it. Smothering her yawn, she reached for a green ribbon on the other side of the desk, but abruptly stopped as something occurred to her. She scanned the letter again, debating on whether to add something or not. Should she...?

A few scribbles and another gruesome proofreading later, Hermione Granger plopped onto her bed and fell asleep immediately, setting aside the distribution of her invitations for tomorrow.

------------------------

Pansy was shocked, to say the least. She went over the invitation for a dozen of times already, looking for any hidden message that would somehow verify her nagging intuition. Finding nothing, she stared at the postscript instead.

__

... If you'd like to, you could bring a friend or two along...

Her head shot up when the door to her left opened, and she stood up to see the person she was waiting for. "Took you long enough."

"I was in an important meeting, Pansy. Surely you do understand that."

"Don't I always?" She smiled, but it was immediately replaced by a frown as she saw the newcomer move to get the cloak and hat. "And where exactly are you going, Draco?"

Draco clasped his obsidian robes, grabbed his hat from the hat rack and placed it on his head. "Somewhere. Do tell mother that I'll be there shortly. I just have some important matters to attend to."

Pansy smiled devilishly. "Important matters?"

"Important matters." Draco answered, too busy checking out his reflection to notice her evil grin.

"Oh, okay..."

Draco walked towards the door, held it open for Pansy, and the two of them walked out of his office, and took the lift to take them down to the lobby of the Malfoy Towers. Once outside, Draco kissed Pansy on the cheek. "Tell mother what I told you, Pansy." He reminded her before turning to walk to his personal coach.

Pansy was debating on whether to call Draco back or just ride away and go to the party in the Malfoy Manor. She had actually considered the possibility, albeit the incredulity of it was blatant. But she grabbed his elbow and called him back anyway. "Wait, Draco."

Said Draco stopped from his brisk strides to look back at her. He was annoyed that she was calling him again. "What?"

She took a deep breath and pulled on an innocent face. "I have been thinking..."

"And you're absolutely wasting my time." He quipped.

"No, no. Let me finish, okay?" Pansy protested. She was glad that Draco clucked his tongue in annoyance, but stopped to listen to her anyway. "Do you have plans on next, next Sunday?"

"I'm a busy man, Pansy."

"No, no. That's a Christmas Eve. Surely, you do not have anything to do. Our parents and Blaise's are going to spend the holidays in Russia, and I was hoping that..." Pansy looked up at Draco tentatively before looking down again. "Well, I was..."

Draco was miffed. She was obviously delaying him from going about with his business. "Well, what? You're delaying my activities!"

Pansy swallowed hard. The idea had been playing in her mind the moment she received the letter, but she had many other factors to consider before she reached her decision. She wasn't even sure she was doing the right thing. "Well, I received an invitation for a small get-together with our fellow Hogwarts students. I was hoping you'd... Come with me...?"

He glanced at his pocket watch, checking the time. He was definitely running late, and knowing Pansy, she would definitely not stop until she got what she wanted. "Fine, fine."

"Really?" She brightened up. "Fetch me, okay? And would you kindly tell Blaise too? I wouldn't want him to be bored in their mansion."

"That I would. Now I have to go, I have some business to attend to." Draco pried his arm from her grip, and then walked away. He was sure he just willingly stuck his foot in the quick sand, and he'd definitely not enjoy himself there. He'd been the evil force in the group for seven years of their whole stay in Hogwarts; surely, nobody would be looking for him anyway.

But he'd do this for Pansy anyway. She's been a good friend to him, and he can't just back out on her. Millicent would probably go there with Gregory, and Gregory would be tagged along with Vincent. So, he mentally noted the event and the date,_ December 24, a Sunday, a get-together in--_

__

Wait, where was that--

"Oh, and Draco," Pansy called. He turned his head and stopped from walking. She saw his question almost easily. Draco was very particular with the dates and venues and the like, and she was sure he would be in for it. "It's to be held in a house in Niveus Estage."

"Niveus Estage...?" Draco echoed. "And the one who invited you was...?"

"Hermione Granger." Pansy retorted, suppressing the huge grin that was about to take over her features. The different emotions painted on his face after her response -- shock, surprise, anger, happiness, anticipation and something else she couldn't put a finger on -- they were so utterly priceless!

And at that moment, she knew she was doing the right thing.

------------------------

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she walked out of the Ministry. An old witch was asking her so many things that she felt all of her energies being drained, leaving her tired and weary. She placed her hands on the front pocket of her overcoat; all the while trying to sort out her brain from the nerve-racking questions the curious old witch threw her, and walked towards a corner before she apparated to Madam Malkin's Dress and Robe Shop.

She was supposed to attend a yearend ball in the Ministry, but she was still thinking it over if she would attend the ball when Harry and Ron were not there. After all, weren't they the ones everyone was anticipating to see there? She wouldn't even be expected to go there anyway, what with her reputation of having no life out of Books and Harry. Now if they only knew how she desperately wanted out of her conventional lifestyle...

She entered the shop and was about to walk into the robes chamber when her left hand brushed against something in her pocket. She pulled it out, and stared incredulously at the blank card... _Blank card..._

She lifted the object and immediately tapped the card with her wand. "Aparecium!" She whispered, and sure enough, six words that seemed to be floating above the card in green ink surfaced. She eyed it suspiciously, looking for any sign of a hidden hex or curse, but was sure almost at once that there was nothing bad on it.

__

... Dingy Dropout, 5 p.m. tomorrow sharp...

Hermione unconsciously closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. What was Malfoy up to? She could remember vividly his voice before he left, there was something in it that was firm and unyielding, as if it was a command rather than a parting word.

__

... It was nice having a drink with you, Granger. I'm looking forward to meeting you again next time...

She opened her eyes again and stared at the script on the card. _Dingy Dropout..._ That was in Knockturn Alley. Though it wasn't a very dank place anymore after the war, and that she had been there, she surely didn't want to relive how she threw curses on the Death Eaters and how many mangled and bruised bodies were strewn about on the ground after the battle.

Should she go?

Malfoy had been an irritating prick just yesterday, talking about in circles, asking her pointless questions and downright annoying her, but at the same time, he was making sense...

__

... After graduating with the highest honors, achieving your dreams of being an Auror, and being able to aid in the Dark Lord's demise, is there anything you still want?... Do you? I mean, need nothing more?... Ah. And you're happy now?... You're not happy, Granger...

__

You're not happy, Granger.

Those words stabbed her instantly after they came out of Malfoy's lips, and cut and twisted through her heart and soul. She was trying to forget, yet he comes barging in and throws his Malfoy 'charm' on her! What right has he got to do that? Wasn't he supposed to be attending meetings, conventions, and the like? Like right now, shouldn't he be attending whatever his pureblooded business associates are having...

She glanced at her pocket watch and did a double take, she wasn't aware that it was already quarter to six in the afternoon.

For some unknown reason, Hermione panicked and rushed out of the shop and headed out of Diagon Alley.

------------------------

It was all Draco could do to not launch himself in a rage at the elf serving him. His mother taught him never to lay a finger on the ones who served and prepared everything for him, and he was sure his father was kind at times, too. But his patience had already thinned drastically, though he was famous for being ill tempered anyway. It was a good thing he inherited a little of his mother's cool composure, or else he would have hexed the elf to eternity and back before it could even start its first person monologue.

He was sitting at the darkest corner of the shop, sipping his third round of firewhiskey, exactly fifty-nine minutes after he entered the Beheaded Troll. He was sure he made it a point for her to understand that he wanted to meet her tonight, what with his ever-imposing voice and his charm (though he wasn't quite confident with the latter when it comes to her). Hermione should have been there a long time ago, and Draco, being a Malfoy, had never been one to wait patiently.

He downed his drink and set the mug briskly on the table, intent on leaving when Hermione slipped on the chair from across him.

"You're late."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I was looking for a dress in Madam Malkin's Shop for the yearend ball when I just felt the card in my coat pocket, I didn't immediately see what was written in the card-- Wait." Hermione's face was set on a frown. "Why did you want to see me?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing, really. A firewhiskey, Granger?"

"Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, in my opinion, you're just wasting your time. Shouldn't you be somewhere meeting with your associates?" Hermione retorted as she placed the now-blank card on the table.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Honestly? Well, honestly, I'm supposed to be attending a party my mother organized in our Manor tonight. My business partners are there."

Hermione scoffed. "Then why are you here?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, right." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let me guess... It's because you love me. How grand."

Draco felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a sneer. "Would you believe me if I said I do?"

"And I just recently discovered that I was a pureblood and I am the long-lost heir to the throne of England..." She retorted, sighing exasperatedly before banging her fist on the table. "NO! What do you think, that after you've practically made my Hogwarts years miserable I'd suddenly find myself actually believing AND falling for you?"

He almost emulated her gesture of anger, feeling vexed. She was being harsh, he thought, but somehow the blush on her face was telling him otherwise. "Temper, temper, Gryffindor. It was only a joke."

Hermione remained scowling, but the blush on her cheeks remained prominent.

"Look, Granger. I wanted to see you because..." He trailed off. Why did he want to see her anyway? He himself didn't know; in fact, it was all an action taken in response to his impulse. He couldn't find any other explanation as to why, only because he wanted to see her. But then, if he told her such...

Draco exhaled briskly before speaking. "... Because, because... Because I want you to leave your job." Hah, Draco Malfoy, king of witty remarks and bad boy extraordinaire turned emotional puddle? How mortifying!

She threw him a withered glance. "Malfoy, just... Please, whatever you're planning... Just, spit it out already!" Hermione receded. She was sick and tired of everything false already. For years, everyone around her took her for granted, smothered her with fake affection and care, and gave her false assurance of what was ahead. It was always like that. The only real attachment she had was her parents' love, her friendship with Ginny and Neville, her brief acquaintance with Pansy and her rivalry with Malfoy. She wouldn't want the scarce reality she hanged on to be taken away from her.

He could see the weariness in her face. He knew whatever he was thinking and feeling right now wouldn't make her believe him anyway. But he should try, at least. Draco shifted slightly in his seat before speaking. "Okay, so that wasn't the truth."

"I was expecting that."

"But," He negated. "That doesn't mean I have changed my mind about what you chose to do."

"Your point being...?"

Draco saw the anger and weariness flicker from her face to be replaced by confusion. "You're not happy with how your life is going." He held up his hand when he saw her open her mouth to retort. "Don't go denying it and let me finish, Granger."

Hermione withdrew from leaning on the table across him and crossed her arms in front of her, glaring mutinously at him.

"Good. Now," He brought out another card, but this time it was colored green. "I have a proposition. You leave Harry Pothead and the Weasel King--"

Hermione glared at him icily from her seat and butted in. "How dare you! Do you expect me to just follow you and forsake my two best friends? You're out of your mind, Malfoy!"

Draco seethed. Even if the two blokes weren't with her, she would still stick up for them? Why in the world would she do that? Even if everyone close to her were actually treating her like shit, she would still defend him or her? "Why do you insist on standing up for them?" Draco looked down at her through his aristocratic nose.

"Because they are my friends, you git!" She snapped back.

"Friends? You actually think they see you as that. Look at you, pathetic Gryffindor. If they did see you as such then they shouldn't have left you."

"It's important business! And what right have you got to speak ill against them, huh? You don't know them so don't judge them!" Hermione rose from her chair. "This is pointless. I'm leaving. Thank you for ruining my day, Malfoy." She grabbed her purse, jumped out of the booth and walked away, muttering incoherently, though Draco thought he heard something about dress robes and annoying and unchanging Slytherins.

Draco followed her with his gaze, making sure she was already out of the establishment before placing some coins on the table and heading towards his carriage.

------------------------

A/N: Nothing really, just review, and I'll be posting the next installation tomorrow! Up next, a Chirstmas get-together, jealousy, and many more!


	4. Midnight Rush

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: Melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R (but not just yet)

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Verse Three: Midnight Rush_

_I don't mind spending everyday_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_And ask her if she wants to stay a while_

_She will be loved_

_And she will be loved_

Hermione bustled about in her flat, fixing the living room that Ernie and Justin managed to cause havoc in, while she waited for the pumpkin pies to finish. The Hufflepuffs decided to appear all at the same time while Neville, Lavender and the Patil twins were helpful enough to arrive early and help her with the food, and the rest of the Gryffindors arrived at five in the afternoon. Millicent, Gregory and Vincent dropped by and gave her a half-finished pack of chocolate frogs before heading to Bulgaria, and she was sure the pack was half-empty because the two lard-induced boys couldn't keep their hands in their pockets. But she thanked them anyway.

"Hermione, all the bottles of firewhiskey are empty. Would you like me to buy some more?" Neville came out from the kitchen, where Lavender was indulging on the licorice wands she set aside for later.

"Would it be too much if I asked you to?" Hermione placed the round throw pillow on the divan near the door that led to her kitchen.

Neville was already placing his robes on. "Yeah, don't need to ask. And don't fret. You look nice, Hermione." And then, Neville put on his hat and disapparated to Hogsmeade.

Once Neville was gone, Hermione sighed audibly and sat down on the rocking chair beside the small side table across the now warm fire. She pulled up the zipper of her saffron turtleneck dress and folded the neckline halfway, then pulled down on the short edge of the dress. She still couldn't believe Parvati talked her into wearing this, when in fact she'd be much more comfortable in her hazel fleece and denims. But then, she did want to look different even just once... She just had to endure the skimpy dress for around three hours, and then she'd plop herself on her bed in her comfortable flannels soon after.

She glanced at the clock again, and almost sighed when she saw that it was almost eight in the evening. The Ravenclaws haven't arrived yet, and so with the other Slytherins...

_Slytherins…_

Hermione wanted to see Pansy for some unknown reason. Sure, Pansy wasn't the most pleasant girl in school, what with their bitter history, but ever since they became civil towards each other, the loathing she felt towards her vanished almost instantly. It was like looking at a younger sister that she never had. Pansy even told her one time how lonely she often got whenever she was left alone in their villa and had no playmate but her dolls, and that up until that time she still wished for an older sister. Hermione herself wished she had her own little sister too, and clandestinely, she considered Ginny and Pansy as such.

She knew she was missing Pansy, and that she knew that the other girl was also lonely sometimes, but even now that Pansy owled her a response that she'd arrive, she still felt unsettled. Why was she restless?

Pushing her thoughts aside, she shifted slightly on the rocking chair, and turned to the side table. Her gaze landed on the issue of the Daily Prophet yesterday. She picked it up gingerly, and placed it on her lap, her gaze skimming the front page of the periodical...

"Hermione! The pumpkin pies are cool enough. Should I bring it--" Lavender entered the living room and found Hermione staring blankly at the newspaper. She walked towards Hermione before kneeling in front of her. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"L-Lavender!" Hermione jumped slightly. "A-Are the pumpkin pies done already?"

Lavender nodded, though she was frowning. "What's the matter, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing, really. Just... Tired. I'll just rest for a few minutes and... I'll be fine later, don't worry." She smiled up at Lavender, and then looked down on the newspaper on her lap again.

Lavender followed her gaze and saw the yesterday edition of the Daily Prophet. "You miss them, don't you?" She asked as she stared at the picture of Ron and Harry on the newspaper.

Hermione nodded dumbly, though she was looking at a smaller picture at the upper right portion of the paper. Maybe he was just concerned, even if he was incapable of compassion towards someone like her... Maybe he was just trying to help... Was she too harsh on him?

"They're in Würzburg now... I remember Luna telling me that some Wilhelm Ronald Roentgen discovered a mysterious radiation of some sort there... Something called X-Scroll, if I could remember." Lavender continued.

Lavender's words cut through her train of thoughts. "Y-Yes... Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen. It's called X-Strahl then, but they refer to it as x-ray today."

"X-ray?"

"It's a muggle thing, Lavender. Even my parents use that in their--"

A black-clad figure suddenly apparated in front of them, cloak ballooning as he landed on his feet with a thud. Lavender shrieked, dropping the licorice wand in her hand, and Hermione, her Auror skills kicking in, jumped to her feet, brought out her wand and aimed it at the newcomer.

"Hold up Hermione! It's me!"

"Neville!" Hermone shouted as Lavender gathered enough courage to look at him.

Lavender was visibly shaking. "Y-Y-You scared me...!"

"Sorry, Lavender. I was just rushing, because..." Neville placed the bottles on the table and wiped the sweat trickling down his temple. "... I was walking back here to Niveus Estage and saw the Ravenclaws nearby, and I was running to overtake them so I could arrive first, and then I thought I should have just apparated instead, so--"

"It's okay, Neville. Now, sit down and breathe." Hermione pushed him into the nearest chair and grabbed the bag he brought home. "So Mandy and her friends are coming... Lav, come on, we've got to prepare the food!"

"Uhm... Okay!" Lavender replied, the second licorice wand she had in her pocket stuck up in her mouth as she entered the kitchen.

Hermione was placing the tray of pumpkin pies and cauldron cakes on the service table when the sounds of the knocker made her spin around, making her drop the potholder in the process. She picked the piece of cloth up, threw it on the counter and was about to walk towards the door to open it, when Neville shouted.

"I'll get it for you, Hermione!"

"Thanks, Neville!"

She returned to fixing the treats that Lavender brought out from the kitchen and automatically straightened her skirt again. She was reminded of Pansy suddenly, with her clothes somewhat girly and skimpy-looking, but she always managed to look comfortable and confident. Hermione sighed._ Pansy should be garbed in decent and stylish clothes, so..._

"H-Hermione..." She heard Neville stutter.

"Hermione!" A voice called her; just a tad lower than a shriek, and a pair of arms went around her shoulders. "Happy Christmas, Hermione!"

Hermione turned around and expected the sight of all the Ravenclaws smiling to greet her a Happy Christmas, but a flash of silver-blonde stilled her.

Standing before her was not the group of Ravenclaws she was expecting, but instead, there stood Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and _-- wonder of all wonders --_ Draco Malfoy.

------------------------

His breath caught in his throat.

When Hermione turned around, her auburn, wavy locks spun in the air; and her golden dress, albeit not her typical choice of clothing, complimented her. Her hazel eyes locked with his gaze, and he thought he saw the slight surprise in those orbs.

Draco saw her tear away her gaze from him and placed it on Pansy instead.

"P-Pansy! Happy Christmas to you, too!" Hermione returned the embrace. "It's been five months..." She trailed off as she saw Draco remove his hat, and Blaise doing the same. "Zabini," she nodded towards Blaise, and then turned to look at Draco. "Malfoy."

"Happy Christmas, Granger." Blaise lifted Hermione's hand to his lips. "Though it would be nice if you would address me as Blaise instead." He kissed her knuckle.

Draco felt like punching the person next to him, which at that moment, was trying to snog the living daylights out of a certain Auror's hand.

Pansy saw Draco's face darken and his knuckles turn white. She was wondering if Draco chose the wrong robes to wear, since she couldn't practically see him in his chartreuse wardrobe.

Despite her attempts not to, Hermione blushed. "O-Okay... Blaise." She withdrew her hand and immediately turned towards the living room, gesturing them to follow her. "Please, please, make yourselves at home and have a seat."

Pansy and Blaise sat down together on the couch, while Draco sat on the window seat.

"Draco, why--" Pansy stopped herself from calling him. It was obvious that he felt like sitting alone instead of beside her and Blaise, and she figured he was in his brooding beauty mode. _'Maybe that brooding session he decided to have at the moment would enlighten him.'_

Lavender came in the living room, holding a tray of sweets and placing it on the center table. "Parkinson, Zabini! How have you two been? Oh, and Malfoy! Hello to you too." She smiled at Pansy and Blaise, who smiled at her in return. Earning no reaction from Draco, Lavender seated herself on the lounger perpendicular to the settee Pansy and Blaise were sitting at.

"Oh, you know, the usual... Being sent and ordered around by manipulative parents and all..." Pansy shrugged and reached out to grab a chocolate frog, but Blaise leaned over to get the chocolate frog for her and a bottle of firewhiskey for him. "Thanks, Blaise." She thanked him before turning back to Lavender again. "Say, Lavender... Uh, you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"No, no." Lavender shook her head before biting into her licorice wand. "You were saying, Pansy...?"

Blaise stared at the two girls as they talked animatedly about whatever entered their minds, and he was fairly sure that Pansy has yet again set another record for starting a friendship within ten seconds. He smirked behind his drink, shaking his head slightly, thinking of how huge and amazing Pansy had changed since fifth year. _'Pansy, Pansy...'_

------------------------

Standing in the doorway, Hermione smiled inwardly as Pansy, Lavender and the Ravenclaws talked noisily about whatever she was trying to drown out; she wasn't particularly interested in what they were talking about just yet. She was just glad that Pansy and Lavender became instant friends, a proof that Hogwarts definitely could do away with the house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Speaking of Slytherin...

She was pretty sure that a pair of smoky eyes of a certain Slytherin was on her. Why was Malfoy watching her every move? Hermione lifted her gaze to look at Draco, who was currently sipping his mug of firewhiskey from the window seat and looking straight at her.

His gaze made her stop from bringing the pumpkin pies to her guests, and she could almost hear her heart beating erratically out of her chest. What was happening to her?

------------------------

Blaise, unlike the boisterous Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and the undeterred Pansy before him, watched as Hermione and Draco eyed each other.

Clucking his tongue in annoyance, he stood up, placed his bottle of firewhiskey on the table, and crossed the room to step up to Hermione.

"I'll do it for you." He placed himself within the vantage point of Draco and got the tray from a startled Hermione.

Hermione almost jumped when she heard Blaise's voice. "N-No, it's okay. Y-You're the guest and--"

"No, no. I insist." Blaise beamed at her, and Hermione looked down in embarrassment. "Now where should I place this, fair lady?"

Hermione couldn't help but grin at Blaise. "H-Here." She led him towards the round table beyond the fireplace.

While walking, Blaise turned his head towards Draco's direction and grinned evilly. He was victorious as he saw Draco's face darken and his eyes turn into slits, glowering at him. He could almost hear Professor Snape speaking from a distance, awarding him points for proving to the world -- and especially to the Slytherin King himself -- that he wasn't sorted into his house for nothing.

_'Fifty points to Slytherin,'_ he smiled smugly.

------------------------

He knew better not to trust his fellow Slytherins. Even if it was his best friend since who knows when.

Draco could practically ::feel:: Blaise's victorious flaunting of Slytherin skills. True, he, Draco Malfoy, was -- is, and forever will be -- the Slytherin King (that pathetic excuse of a Dark Lord slash Tom Marvolo Riddle could rot in nothingness and he wouldn't even give a damn about him), but Blaise was definitely hamming up to the role of next in line. Everyone in his house knew better not to cross the paths of Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, but never has it occurred to him that Blaise would use his skills at him.

He would get back at him for that. Draco Malfoy was never beaten at the art of Slytherin performance, most especially when his crown is on the line. He'll definitely get back at him... And he sure as hell would make sure of that.

------------------------

The grandfather clock in Hermione's flat told her that it was eleven forty-five, and she didn't expect to still have the three Slytherins in her living room. After all, the Ravenclaws, Neville and Lavender left about an hour ago. But she wasn't complaining; in fact, she was quite happy. She surely missed Pansy and her stories, and she never thought that she'd see the day that Blaise Zabini would be acting like a gentleman trained for knighthood. He wasn't exactly the perfect gentleman back in Hogwarts, but Hermione forgave him for that already; maybe it was because he had to keep up with his image, much like someone else she knows...

Said someone else now sat beside Pansy on the couch, farthest from where she was sitting. Occasionally he would butt in with his snarky but welcome remarks about their past experiences in Hogwarts. One would say he was in his own world, because he looked like he wasn't even listening at all, just melting the twelfth chocolate frog in his mouth (she actually counted that surreptitiously) and intermittently sipping some butterbeer (her firewhiskey, much to a hostess' embarrassment, went out just after the tipsy Lavender and blushing Neville stepped out of the apartment) while gazing at the flickering flames of the fire. Unconsciously, she followed his stare and marveled at the playful shadows cast on the walls of the furnace.

_Shadow..._

"Oh dear," Pansy interjected her thoughts, and she tore her gaze from the fire. "Hermione, I hate to go, it has been really a nice talk, but I fear that my overprotective parents would go into a rage when they find out I haven't been home since ten." Pansy stood up and straightened her peach robes.

"Ten?" Hermione echoed as she too, stood up. "Oh, I'm sorry about that, I totally forgot--"

"It's all right, Hermione." Blaise placed his hand on her shoulders and squeezed it affectionately. "I'll see to it that she's going to arrive safely. I'll drive her home, and I'm expecting Aunt Brigitta and Uncle Francis will be hovering in the Floo, so I'll be the one who will do the explaining to them."

"Oh, okay." Hermione smiled at Blaise. "Thank you."

Blaise kissed Hermione on the cheek and embraced her briefly. "I should have been on friendly terms with you since Hogwarts, Hermione. I can't believe the Sorting Hat made a horrible mistake at sorting you into Gryffindor... Well, not really horrible, but still..." He pulled away and smiled at her.

"Yeah, I know, I know. You could sort me into all of the houses." She waved her hands dismissively and led them to the door, and she handed out their cloaks and hats from the clothes and hats rack. She shivered slightly at the contact of someone's long, slender fingers against her hand when she handed out the thick, chartreuse trench coat.

"Maybe we should meet some time, Hermione. Say, this weekend?" Pansy spoke and saved her from melting against Draco's fleeting touch, and Hermione was thanking her silently as she provided distraction and saw her brush her bangs out of her eyes. "Or are you busy?"

"I don't think so... No, I think I'm not. I'll owl you, don't worry." Hermione kissed Pansy on the cheek. "Thanks for coming, by the way." She smiled at Blaise, and somehow she found it difficult to bring herself to look at the other man beside Pansy. She did so anyway, smiled briefly, but immediately averted her gaze and opened her door to usher them out.

After the usual courteous goodbyes, Hermione closed the door and locked it, smiling to herself. It had been a tiring but wonderful get-together, and she felt happy that she thought of inviting all her batch mates instead of the Gryffindors alone. Too tired to clean the house the muggle way, she waved her wand at the living room, shouted 'Scourgify', and did the same with the dining area, the counter and the kitchen. Within seconds the whole house was clean, so she headed to the bathroom, took a very quick shower, and changed into her black flannels.

She was about to lie down on her bed when she heard the knocker again. _'Who could be here at this hour?'_ She wondered. Stealthily, she marched down the stairs, wand in hand, headed to the door and peeped through the eyehole. She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to calm down, building some control in her system. Why was he here? She swung the door open.

"Oh, forgot something, Malfoy?" She greeted the scowling boy in front of her doorstep.

Draco pushed past through her and stepped into her flat, took only a stride and looked around the house before replying. "As a matter of fact, yes."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask him what he forgot, since she couldn't remember anything unfamiliar in her living room when she fixed it, but her question remained unvoiced as a hand moved under her chin to make her look up at the tall blonde boy before her, and she felt the late-night intruder's lips capture hers.

Draco pushed Hermione against the door, rendering it close, as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers, reveling in the sweetness and softness of her lips. She tasted of sun-kissed strawberries, of tangy kiwis, and of something he couldn't quite put a finger on, but could only associate with her.

Hermione let out a guttural sound that she could compare to a moan, and she was taken aback when Draco's tongue traced her lips, probing her mouth open, and to her surprise, she was complying. She inhaled his scent inadvertently; and she reveled in the spicy and limey scent that reached her nostrils. She could still taste the firewhiskey and the chocolate frogs he had a while earlier in his mouth, and she was sure that she would never ever taste better firewhiskey and chocolate frogs than those that lingered in the deep caverns presently attached to her mouth.

Teeth clashing, breaths mingling, bodies trembling, skin brushing against skin... Draco was sure he had never kissed anyone this intensely, and Hermione Granger was one hell of a good kisser.

They both jumped when they heard the grandfather clock sound from across the hall.

Draco's breathing was ragged; his hands resting on the door on either side of Hermione's head supported him. Hermione, on the other hand, grasped the doorknob tightly, preventing her from melting into the marble floor. Draco leaned his forehead against hers, his silver eyes gazing heatedly at her auburn ones, his lips hovering just above hers, taking shallow breaths that blew into her mouth, and steadying his breathing but still managing to gaze at her intently. Hermione watched as he took a glance on his wristwatch.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione." She felt -- rather than heard -- Draco whisper against her lips, his breath grazing her fevered lips before giving her a mind-blowing kiss. She could still hear the grandfather clock announcing the time slowly, torturing her and making her feel like floating all at the same time, and she couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck and run her hands through his soft, moonlight-colored hair.

They parted after a long while, long after the grandfather clock stopped ticking, both gasping for air. Draco ran his hands through his silvery-white fringe. "I-I should go... I'll see you soon, Granger." He stepped back, and all Hermione could do was nod dumbly and step out of the way and open the door for him to head out. Draco turned around to give her a chaste kiss on the lips, fleeting and evanescent, that she didn't have the chance to respond, before walking down her front steps. When Draco reached the low gate, he turned to look back at Hermione. "By the way... You forgot to lock the gate, Granger." He gave her a devastating smile before walking away and fading into the darkness.

------------------------

»Some Additional Notes«

X-Strahl - from what I know, X-rays were named as such by Sir Wilhelm Conrad (excuse the Ronald there, that was intentional) Roentgen, or William Röntgen -- which ever you prefer, before it even became popular as x-ray. 'X' meaning 'mysterious' or 'unknown.' I'm quite confident with this one. Hahaha. If you don't believe me, go translate 'ray' in German; it would give you 'strahl,' the masculine form of ray.

Würzburg, Germany - I am absolutely clueless about the history of Würzburg to know if it is even associated with Witchcraft or Wizardry or Sorcery or Magic. All I know is that it's a city in the region of Bavaria, and this is where Würzburg University was built (duh), where Matthias Grünewald was from, and was generously destroyed after the World War II. Sorry if this place isn't even a place of practice of the "Diabolical Witchcraft." Oh and yes, Roentgen did discover x-rays in Würzburg.

A/N: Thank you for those who reviewed! And for those who didn't, thank you still! I'll try my best to post everything according to the timeline of the story, so you can be sure this is done on New Year's Eve… That is, if I get to go online. Stupid school, I have to do a lot of homework.

Ciao!


	5. Interlude: Snow Globe

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email:

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Interlude: Snow Globe_

Hermione sat gazing at the muggle newspaper sitting on the counter, her shock still not wearing off.

She thought that she had just misread the names on the paper, but the picture of the house was unmistakable. The three-story Victorian house, the small garden of flowers just below the front porch, the cat-shaped mailbox and the hard, Roman letters engraved on the wood...

A tear slipped down from her cheeks as Hedwig, who just flew in and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of her, hooted in annoyance at the lack of attention she was getting. The newspaper had a picture of her and her parents smiling. She still couldn't believe what actually happened.

_'Robbers Break in at Muggle-Born Granger's Muggle House'_

_It was confirmed last night that Muggle Auror and Harry Potter's best friend's parents were attacked in their house in Muggle London._

_Hermione Granger, fresh from Hogwarts and who now lives in Niveus Estage, has just been to the place to celebrate the holidays with them before the incident occurred. Reports on muggle newspapers say that robbers broke in at around midnight, when the muggles were sleeping. The Ministry confirms that it is not, by any way, connected to whatever magical event that one would suspect. They were sure that You-Know-Who's followers were in Azkaban, or floating in the outskirts of the necropolis. "It was a muggle crime," adds Arthur Weasley, Deputy Minister and Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. _

_The robbers took away a few precious muggle items, and Granger's parents have been sent to a hospital and thankfully not severely wounded..._

Hermione slammed the Daily Prophet on the table, her tea sloshing out on the edges of her cup. How could Mr. Weasley not inform her at once? Didn't they even stop to consider that ::she:: was the daughter of the muggles they were talking about?

And as if on cue, Pigwidgeon flew in through her kitchen window, his wings flapping violently against the silence of her flat, a rolled up parchment tied to his leg. Hermione eyed the owl as it swooped down near her tea; with fidgeting hands, she untied the letter and read it.

_Hermione,_

_I just got news about your parents, and I am deeply sorry about what happened. Father said he was surprised too, since they had to go there and check for damages. He was shocked when he found out it was your house that they had to investigate, but he was positive that it had nothing to do with wizards or witches or purebloods seeking the eradication of muggle-borns in the world. At least your parents weren't severely hurt, right?_

_I know you're planning to go back to Muggle London by now, and I suggest you to not do so. Father thought of that ahead and immediately sent a restraining order to all the train regulators and portkey owners for all the muggle-borns to be unable to leave Wizarding London. Said that they have to be careful for it to not happen to witches and wizards..._

_I understand your need to be with your parents or at least check on them, but do think that Father is only thinking mostly of your welfare. He also told your parents that you wouldn't be allowed exit to any ports yet, and they say they understand so don't worry; you'll be released after about a week. I'm sure you'll be fine. You're strong, and I still admire you for your courage all these years, do you know that?_

_I wish I could see you before school starts again, but I have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow. I have Head Duties to attend to. I wouldn't want to let down the Head Girl I succeeded, now would I?_

_Do try to relax and smile, okay? I could now imagine your frown; your fellow workers in the Ministry might mistake you for Crookshanks._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Wiping the tears from her cheeks using the back of her hand, Hermione gave Pigwidgeon -- and the hooting Hedwig -- some owl treats and stood up, rolled up both the newspapers and Ginny's letter and ran up the stairs. She will go back to Muggle London. She ::has:: to, whether they like it or not, even if it would cost her her job.

------------------------

Blaise sat on the black leather recliner, his feet propped up on the table in front of him and playing with a glass ball in his hands. He watched as the little snowflakes fluttered down the base, and smiled at the little children enchanted to run about in the trinket. The children would occasionally tackle each other, or throw some snow at one another. He would even see flashes of what looked like spells come out from tiny sticks they held in their hands that he assumed were wands. He was sure three of the four children looked familiar. One boy had silver hair, the other black as night, while the girl he recognized had curly blonde locks. He thought that it was they -- Pansy, Draco and him -- but he couldn't quite place who the other girl was. She looked familiar, though.

He was so engrossed in the snow globe that he didn't notice Pansy enter the office.

"Oh, it's you. I thought for one minute that you were Draco and you dyed your hair." She sat across him, also staring at the glass ball.

"Dye? Please, Pansy. My hair is in no need of dyeing. I am devastatingly handsome without changing myself..." Draco came in from another door, the one that led to the conference room. "Blaise, I told you I'm the only one allowed to prop my feet on the table." He complained before setting himself behind the mahogany table.

Blaise scowled, but pulled his feet down anyway. Pansy just snickered.

"Why are you two here anyway?" Draco asked rather bluntly.

"Oh, I don't know." Blaise replied, still staring at the crystal ball. "I was... Bored."

"Bored? Blaise dear," Pansy scoffed. "You never complained of being 'bored' before."

Blaise looked up from the item to meet Pansy's glinting blue eyes. He almost sniggered, but he held his reaction back._ 'Too bad Draco and Pansy never had a connection like this...' _

Draco's eyes flashed violently. "Blaise, about last Christmas Eve, I'm telling you--"

"Pans, would you like to go with me to the yearend ball that the Ministry organized? I figured you wouldn't want to be stuck ::again:: with an ugly ferret this year, just like it had always been for three years running. You know, for a change." Blaise asked as he darted his eyes around the room, though he was only gauging Draco's reaction.

"Pansy." Draco spoke, more of commanded. "I'm warning you--"

"I'd love to, Blaise! I mean I wouldn't want to be stuck with an ugly ferret that goes about threatening poor, helpless ladies." Pansy smiled at Blaise extra sweetly.

"Helpless?" Draco echoed. "More of hapless, Pansy. Fine. Go with him. I don't care anyway." He crossed his arms in front of him and sat back on his chair.

Blaise and Pansy exchanged knowing glances.

"Oh," Blaise exclaimed. "I almost forgot, I already ::am:: taking someone to the yearend ball!"

"What?" Pansy asked incredulously. "You mean you're dropping me like a hot potato?"

"L-Look, I'm sorry, Pans, but y-you see, Hermione and I," Blaise side glanced at Draco before continuing. "... You know what I mean."

"Oh..." Pansy sat back, disappointed. "I guess I really ::am:: stuck with good old ugly Draco."

"You talk about me like I'm not even here in your midst." Draco commented dryly. "And Granger? Blaise, I doubt that."

"Oh! I almost forgot you were there." Pansy exclaimed mockingly. "Dear, dear. I'm sorry, Draco. So I guess you'll still take me to the ball, right? With Blaise just dropping me like a hot potato... I'm sure you'll take me, right?"

"Is there any other way?" Draco sighed exasperatedly. "That's why your father wouldn't stop from practically throwing you at my feet. You ::always:: plead for me to take you."

Pansy merely smiled at him. "Ooh, I lurve you sooo..." She rolled her eyes at him playfully.

Blaise continued watching the small object, and he was surprised when the silver-haired boy jumped and tackled the auburn-haired girl. There was a pattern in the trinket that the boys tackled only each other, but then...

Blaise smiled wickedly. '_Little trinkets do wonderful things...'_ He thought as he now identified the other child in the glass.

------------------------

A/N: Guess where Hermione's going, guys… ) Of course you could! The question is, what will happen next?

Ciao!


	6. Butterfly Sleep

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R (slightly in this chapter)

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly:: And you were forewarned, this is slightly lime in nature. Hehe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Verse Four: Butterfly Sleep_

_Tap on my window knock on my door_

_I want to make you feel beautiful_

_I know you tend to get so insecure_

_But it doesn't matter anymore_

Hermione wanted desperately to cry.

She had tried everything to get back to Muggle London, and for almost all day, her efforts have been in vain. Even bribery wouldn't even work!

"Hermione..." Neville whined as he sat down beside her and handed her a glass of pumpkin juice. "Harry and Ron asked me to watch over you while they're gone, yet you haven't really eaten anything decent since they left! Do you hate me so much that you continuously ignore my concern because you want them to hex me into oblivion?"

"I don't hate you, Neville. I'm sorry about that. It's just that... Can't I do something to see my parents? I hate feeling so helpless." Hermione cried out, her glass of pumpkin juice spilling slightly. She couldn't possibly tell Neville about her troubles; he himself had many things bearing down on him. His parents were still in St. Mungo's, his grandmother just got out of the hospital because of a disease inflicted by a goblin, his relationship with Lavender isn't exactly going smoothly, and Harry and Ron even asked him to watch over her. She couldn't possibly burden him more.

Hermione's gaze was transfixed on the bubbly pumpkin juice that she didn't notice Cho sit down beside her.

"Hermione, I tried my best, but..."

She looked up from her glass and smiled sadly at Cho. "It's all right, Cho. Thank you for trying. Thanks for helping."

Cho returned the smile with a cheerful one. "No problem."

"I know how it feels, Hermione... To have your parents..." Neville trailed off.

Hermione squeezed his hand affectionately. "Nev..."

Neville sighed. "... If only I had enough powers like You-Know-Who had, or even Harry's, maybe I could help you. Sadly, I don't practice the Dark Arts..."

Hermione dropped her goblet.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Both Neville and Cho asked her.

She nodded silently as she saw Cho clean up the mess she made. Neville's words dug into her brain. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that Voldemort and Harry were one of the most powerful wizards to ever live, and there were just a few who could match their powers. Dumbledore was still in Hogwarts, though she didn't think that he would be willing to help her, and Voldemort is already resting in peace (and it isn't like she would ask for his help anyway). Now Harry is in Germany, and the only one who could match up with him was Ron, who is also currently in Germany, and she, who is blatantly banned to gain access to every port and restricted areas...

... But then, there ::is:: another one who could match up to Harry, Ron or her... And is within the vicinity...

Finally, it clicked in her mind. "What time is it?"

"Uhm... Two twenty-four." Neville answered. "Why?"

She stood up from the chair and plucked her coat from the coat hanger. "I-I have to go... Thanks for helping, Cho, Neville." And she ran out of the building and into the street, Neville's words repeating in her mind like a broken record.

__

... Sadly, I don't practice the Dark Arts...

------------------------

Hermione stood in front of a tall building that was rising up the overcast sky and towering above the business district. She had always passed by the Wizarding Business Center, but she never really stopped to admire the structures that now resembled the muggle high-rise skyscrapers.

She never expected to see herself one day standing like this. But when it comes to her parents, or for anyone important to her, she would cross whatever boundaries or restrictions laid out before her to do whatever it takes.

Taking a deep breath and gathering all the strength that she could muster, Hermione pushed the revolving door and stepped into the glass building.

__

'Here goes nothing...'

------------------------

"Pansy, you know what I'm talking about."

"Honestly, Draco? I don't." Pansy retorted.

Draco sipped his vodka from his wine glass while looking out of the window. "You said so that you'll meet this weekend."

"Oh," Pansy nodded in understanding. "That. Remind me to tell you to be more specific next time."

Draco turned from the window to Pansy. "Pansy, please tell me that I have to be specific next time." He spoke dryly.

"Next time, Draco, be specific." Pansy retorted from her chair.

Draco snickered at their foolishness, but it immediately vanished when he saw a sapphire-clad figure linger in front of the Malfoy Towers. He wasn't mistaken. "Pansy...?"

"What now, Lord Malfoy?"

"I think Blaise is waiting for you already." Draco walked away from the window and sat down on his chair.

"Hmmm, I think not." Pansy retorted. "It's only three in the afternoon. We meet at four."

"Then I suppose you should leave. Don't want to make him wait, right?"

"Oh, you know him. He'd be the tardy one."

Draco almost hissed in annoyance. "You better be early so you have something to taunt him for."

"Are you sending me away?" Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. At Draco's lack of answer, she scowled. "All right, all right!" She stood up and gathered her things. "You owe me for this and for Saturday, Draco. Big time." She smiled smugly before heading out of the office.

------------------------

"Sir, Whimsy says someone is looking for Master Draco, Sir. Whimsy asked if visitor made an appointment, but visitor said it was an emergency. Should Whimsy let visitor see Master?" The elf babbled, and Draco almost laughed at the stupidity of his speech. Couldn't the elf do much better?

"I'm expecting that. Let the visitor in, Whimsy."

"Certainly, Master."

A few seconds later, the double doors opened, and the visitor strode in silently.

"I am awed by your display of Gryffindor bravery." Draco commented. "You just stepped into the enemy's lair. What would Golden Boy say?"

Hermione stopped in front of his desk, her face stoic. "Malfoy."

"Granger." Draco motioned her to sit on the chair across him.

Hermione complied. "Malfoy, I..."

Draco could see how Hermione was fidgeting. Ah, maybe she has changed her mind? "I know I'm irresistible, Granger, but do you miss me so much that you couldn't take not seeing me?"

Hermione scowled. This is not the time for his teasing. "That's not what I came here for."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's too bad. But I understand that, you're still in denial. Don't worry." His lips formed into a smug smile.

"Cut the crap, ferret." She rolled her eyes.

"Then what is so important that," Draco stood from his chair to stand near her chair. "... Mudblood Granger decided to honor me with her presence?"

Hermione tried her best to remain calm. "Malfoy, about... About two nights ago, I..." She trailed off. She didn't notice Draco actually had color on his pale cheeks. "No, I just... I just wanted to ask you if..."

Draco averted his eyes from her, his eyes focusing on the huge painting of their family at the corner. Truth to be told, he didn't know what came over him two days ago. Blaise and Pansy were just grating on his nerves, and he felt the need to get away from them before he did something severe. Besides, what he did was something unintentional… but not unwelcome. He couldn't help himself. It was just that… She looked so… so… So beautiful that night…

Is he going soft?

Draco Malfoy, famous heir of the Malfoys, cold-hearted and dyed-in-the-wool prat, was going soft? _'And pigs went flying!'_

But of course, he wouldn't admit to that. So instead, he tried to divert the discussion. "Ask me what? If I would be charitable enough to take you in after you leave Potty and Weasel? If I would give you a job when you leave them? Well guess again, you had your chance. And you passed on it." Draco scoffed at her, digging his heels on the emerald carpet.

"Oh will you grow up, Malfoy?" She snapped.

"I did, Granger. Or are you blind enough?" He retorted as he gestured his hand towards his head, obviously pointing at his tall figure.

"Look..." Hermione heaved. "I-I-I came here to ask for... For your help..."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "Help?" He laughed. "Help! High and mighty Gryffindor Granger comes to the slimiest, sneakiest, most diabolical Slytherin for help? That's about one of the most hilarious things I've heard!"

Hermione laughed sarcastically, though deep inside, she was silently breaking. She closed her almond eyes as her vision blurred, her tears threatening to fall. "Malfoy... I thought you've changed... At least, two days ago when you just... I should have known… N-Never mind… I-I-I shouldn't have thought about it... Sorry for disturbing you..." She shook her head and stood up, straightened her soft, sapphire velvet robes before turning towards the door.

__

'She's walking away?' He thought incredulously. What ever happened to all that huge valor she had in her that made the stupid excuse of a Sorting Hat place her in Gryffindor? Where was the lucid thinker that competed with him in school? Where was the bookworm, the brainy, bushy-haired and nosy girl that he had known way back? Was this the effect of Harry Potter's valiant escapades, change her into someone she wasn't?

Draco gritted his teeth in anger as he dug his heels deeper into the carpet, his hands forcing themselves to clench and unclench to calm his nerves. If this was what Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley did to her, then he must take drastic measures. He couldn't just let her walk away, that would mean that she admitted defeat. He had to do something, or else…

… Or else she wouldn't be the otter, the teachers' favorite, studious, know-it-all, Head Girl, bushy-haired and buck-toothed Mudblood Hermione Granger that he…

Draco shook his head as he looked down, a slight sneer gracing his features. "You'll never change, Granger. Fine, run away! Run away from whatever problems you have and wallow in despair just like you always do, pathetic Gryffindor!" He looked at her retreating back, glaring at it ominously and silently challenging and pleading for her to turn around and fight him.

Hermione stopped taking strides and took a few deep breaths, before turning back to walk briskly towards Draco. When she reached him, she felt all her terrible experiences leaking out of her heart; she didn't even care that her tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, and that of all people, it was Malfoy seeing her. She balled her fists in anger. "You evil, despicable, slimy git! How dare you!" She couldn't control herself anymore that she vented out her anger on him and hit him with her fists.

Draco stood as stiff as a board as Hermione pounded hard against his chest and began calling him colorful names. He kept his cool, knowing from experience that women were emotional, and gave her the liberty of abusing his chest by using it as a punching bag.

Hermione swung her fists blindly at his torso, feeling all of her anger gushing out freely. "... You think you know me when in fact you don't know me at all! Just because you're a Malfoy doesn't make you any better than who I am, you, you dirty, scheming, insufferable, scumbag!"

He could practically feel his veins popping out on his forehead with every insult she threw at him, but being a gentleman, he kept his hands to himself, however the urges to hit back was getting stronger and stronger by the moment.

"... Purebloods, mudbloods, as if it made a difference! You stupid, arrogant, arsehole!"

Last straw.

Hermione gasped when Draco took firm hold of her wrists. "L-Let me go... Let me go, you incorrigible prick!" She shouted as she pried herself out of his grasp, but her attempts were futile, because a former Quidditch player (and one of the greatest seekers at that) was far more powerful than a pathetic bookworm like her. Feeling utterly miserable and drained, her hands slowed from pounding at him until it was just merely tapping on his chest, before she totally stopped in her struggle. Hermione felt really spent, her choked sobs echoing throughout the large office, and she unceremoniously grabbed his shirt and leaned on Draco's figure. "Why? Why, Malfoy? I'm... I'm tired of everything... I-I-I don't know what to do anymore..."

He was burning with fury, not because a certain mudblood's hands were rumpling his immaculate coat and soaking his robes with salty tears, but because everything and everyone around her were so unfair. He was human enough to feel pain, and it somehow twisted his heart when Hermione leaned against him for support. He also knew the feeling of everything turning against him, or his efforts going in vain, and no matter how he told himself to never show compassion to anyone, he couldn't help but do just that to one of the people he considered as his mortal enemy. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to smooth her locks, while the other held her tightly to him.

"... I was always protecting other people yet... My parents... Harry and Ron... Neville's gran... I can't protect those who are dear to me..." Hermione spoke minutes later after her sobs calmed down.

Draco felt an irrational tingle start from his heart and spread throughout his systems. He couldn't possibly be of help to her anymore. All these years, the things he did to her only caused her pain and sufferings. Whenever he opened his mouth, he would always say the right words to push her buttons. What else could he do now? Laugh at her misery? Taunt her in her bothered state to make her confused? Call her mudblood like he always did?

"... They wouldn't even let me see them..."

Draco felt her tense against him again. "Granger." He spoke, and when Hermione looked up at him with her tear-stained face, his heart broke in half.

"M-M-Malfoy?"

"Come with me."

------------------------

Hermione felt guilty all of a sudden. Maybe the Gryffindors really have been too gossip-hungry that many of the things they have been talking about in the common room were plainly gossip and had no truth in them.

Malfoy Manor was nowhere near the old castle that they picture it to be -- set on a hill with a humungous, scary black gate, with a draw bridge above a bottomless pit that connects the gate to the mansion grounds, huge statues of gargoyles and scary, evil people that come to life at night lining the walls of every hallway, and that it totally reeked of nothing but evil.

In fact, it was a very homely place. There is a tall, brass gate in front, and towering brick walls that protect the house from intruders. The house flaunted the Slytherin colors, and the hallways were indeed filled with statues -- statues of different artistic tastes and _angels _-- and portraits... Not of evil people (or are they?), but of the ancestors of the Malfoys, who eerily resembled each other. _'They really are the purest of all purebloods,' _she thought.

"Oof!"

Hermione felt her world spinning, and she thought she saw the paintings snickering at her. Then, all of a sudden, the spinning stopped.

She shut her eyes tightly and forced herself to concentrate in the darkness of her mind when a voice interrupted her mini-pep talk.

"I know you admire the paintings of my ancestors as much as you admire me, but do watch where you're going, Granger."

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Draco's hands grasping her upper arms, and his face staring at her wickedly, an eyebrow raised. "Sorry." She apologized.

She thought she saw Draco nod his head a little before turning to walk away, but it was like an illusion. Maybe that was the effect of the bump. But really, she was already wondering where the hell Draco was leading her, what with the many staircases they descended, hallways they walked past on, and corners they rounded. Draco never answered when she asked him (for around six times already) where they were headed to, and she was starting to worry that maybe he'd lead her to a secret meeting and make her a virgin sacrifice for whatever purpose they had. But being Hermione, she wouldn't stop until she got her answer. Like right now.

"Malfoy, where are we going?"

And as expected, no answer came.

A few minutes later and another flight of stairs, Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Malfoy! Did you hear what I've been asking you since we apparated here? Where are we going?"

Draco stopped walking as well, but he didn't turn around to look at her. "Somewhere." He walked again.

She stomped her foot on the green carpets. "No! I swear Malfoy, I won't take another step until you tell me where we are heading to!" She yelled, crossing her arms across her chest.

Draco stopped walking and turned to her. "You said you wanted to see your parents, Granger."

"Well, yes, but--"

"You do. So just close your mouth, follow me and I'll help you." Draco retorted through gritted teeth.

"But how do I know that I could trust you to help me?"

"Are you saying you don't?"

"Well..." Hermione's cheeks were slightly pink. She doubted him all those years when he first joined the Order, but then, he had helped a lot in acquiring data from Voldemort's lair together with Snape. He even saved Harry from the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort threw when Harry was not looking, placing himself in danger, but then... He hasn't changed a bit. He was still an arrogant, pompous Slytherin.

... And most of all, the thought that made her blush deeper, was that two days ago he just... Snogged her... But even though she enjoyed the passionate hormonal rush that they both experienced, he was still Draco Malfoy...

"Well, n-not really..." She managed to answer while she was pretending to rub her eyes in exasperation when in fact she was just trying to hide her blush. "I-I mean, how do I know that you wouldn't lead me into a secret tribunal with people who wanted me to be killed and--"

"Be offered to a twisted, manipulative, power-hungry and horny evil being as a virgin sacrifice?" He finished, and he felt a smirk tugging on his lips at her obvious thinking. "I thought that you were thinking along the same lines, Granger. That's why I'm giving you a choice now. Go back and try to change the events in Muggle London with your broken time turner and get stuck in that hour glass forever, or muster enough of your Gryffindor valor to trust me with this?"

Draco's pewter gaze landed on hers, and she suddenly felt like she was being pulled into the depths of them.

Hermione managed to pull away. She sighed, partly in relief and partly in resignation, before answering him. "Okay. I trust you." She conceded.

"Let's just apparate downstairs." She heard Draco say before he pulled her in and they vanished with a pop.

------------------------

The moment their feet touched the cold floors of the dungeon, Draco saw Hermione drop dead on the black marble floor.

With an exasperated sigh, he kneeled beside her and shook her lightly. "Granger... Granger, we're back. Granger..." Draco touched her forearm and squeezed it lightly to get her to wake up. "Granger." He said in a much louder voice. "We're back, you already saw your parents. Wake up." He shook her again.

Showing no signs of waking up, Draco clucked his tongue in annoyance. "I should've known she wasn't strong enough. Tsk. Granger and her feminist ideas..." He muttered before lifting her up into his arms. He was surprised at how light she felt. He scowled. _'Is she even eating?'_

He climbed up the flights of stairs and hallways they took just five hours ago, carrying what seemed only like his pillow up to the ground level of the manor. He reached the trap door and pushed it upwards, crept out of the dungeons and into the drawing room. When he walked outside of the doors of the drawing room, a house elf rushed to his side.

"Young Master, Lardy is going to help you--"

"No Lardy." He cut the house elf off. "Young Master can do this. Go back to your chores."

Lardy the House Elf looked pensive. "But Young Master, Harry Potter's friend..." He trailed off, calling Hermione the name that Dobby once told the Malfoy House Elves.

"I said go back to your chores, Lardy. When 'Harry Potter's friend,'" he spat out with utter distaste, "wakes up, 'Harry Potter's friend' will need to eat as many food as 'Harry Potter's friend' can. Now, Young Master says that he can do this, so Lardy must go back to his chores so Lardy can cook. Lardy enjoys cooking, right?"

Lardy smiled happily. "Lardy loves to cook, especially for Mistress and Young Master."

"Good. Now run along." He drawled out.

Lardy bowed low before him, and then ran down the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"Oh, and Lardy?"

"Yes, Young Master?" Lardy stopped and turned to look at him.

"Young Master says that Lardy must call 'Harry Potter's friend' by her name... The name of 'Harry Potter's friend' is Hermione Granger."

------------------------

"Miss Hermione!"

"Ungh..." Hermione mumbled sleepily as she turned in her bed, savoring the warmth it provided. "Ten minutes, mum..."

"Miss Hermione!"

She placed a pillow and covered her ears to block out the voice. She hadn't slept as soundly and as comfortably as this for months now, and it felt good. She inhaled deeply, savoring the musky scent of perfume on the sheets, and snuggled further...

Musky perfume... Silk sheets... Her bed always smelled of strawberries, not of perfume... And she had cotton sheets...

Hermione's eyes shot open and darted around violently._ 'This isn't my room!'_

"You can go now, Lardy. Get her something to eat."

"Certainly, Young Master."

She sat up, spun her head around and she almost screamed when she saw Draco Malfoy, garbed in an impeccable black robe, sitting on the wing chair at the other side of the room.

"M-Malfoy! W-What are you doing here?!"

"Why shouldn't I be here? This is, after all, my room." Draco smiled smugly.

"But..." Hermione began to protest, when she remembered it was Draco who helped her get past the barriers the Ministry set for muggle-borns courtesy of his Dark Arts knowledge.

Feeling shy all of a sudden, she clutched the thick sheets to her chest. "Malfoy, I uh..."

Lardy chose that moment to reappear with a whole cart of food. "Young Master, Harry Potter's friend..."

"Lardy! What did I tell you about--"

"Ah, Lardy is sorry, sir!" Lardy stooped low on the floor and began to bang his head against the foot of the bed. "Lardy is sorry, sir!"

Hermione watched as one of her inspirations for the S.P.E.W. abuse himself in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel angry.

Lardy stopped hurting himself and stood up to his full height, which wasn't very tall. "Lardy is most sorry, Miss Hermione."

"It's okay, Lardy. But you didn't have to hurt yourself." She retorted.

Lardy smiled at her before turning to Draco and bowing. "Lardy has brought Miss Hermione's dinner, Young Master."

"You may go."

With a snap, Lardy vanished into thin air.

With her and Draco left alone in the room, she didn't hesitate scolding him. "Why didn't you stop him from hurting himself? He's also living, he deserves the respect and rights that were also granted to us!"

Draco just walked towards the slightly elevated four-poster bed in the room. "Wish I could, Granger. But he doesn't want me to." He pushed the cart beside the bed and sat on the edge.

"And I just bet you would." She shot back sarcastically.

"You hold me in a much evil regard, Granger. Does your definition of pureblooded Slytherins revolve only around cruel and evil?" He grabbed a plate and picked up a croissant from the basket. "I'll have you know that the Slytherin house is the house of cunning and ambition. It's not synonymous to cruel and heartless. Now," Draco pushed the plate on her hands. "You're as light as a feather. Eat."

She stared at the food blankly, and then turned her gaze at him to eye him warily. "Why am I here?"

"Why are you here? You mean you forgot? Hmm... I didn't know that the spell would have that after effect... Maybe I should check on that again..."

"No, Malfoy. Why am I ::here::? I mean, here here!" Hermione gestured around the room.

Draco cast her an appraising look. "Have you forgotten? You... Me... Between the sheets... Bodies glistening in sweat, basking in the afterglow of making love... You couldn't keep your hands away from my glorious body. Then afterwards, you pulled me into the showers, then on the table in the hallway..."

Hermione gaped. "M-Malfoy!" She grew a lovely shade of red. "W-We didn't--"

Seeing her reaction, he sniggered inwardly, and continued his description. "I still remember your voice, panting... Shouting out my name. 'Ooooh, Draco! Oh! Don't stop...'" He made an impersonation of her voice. "... We made passionate love in almost all the parts of this house. Never knew that underneath that stupid Gryffindor robes and intelligent mind you were that sex vixen, Granger. You just grabbed my hands and made me skim your voluptuous body... You even suggested bondage and torture, don't you remember? Very kinky..." Draco smiled seductively, winking at her.

"Not funny." Hermione rolled her eyes, but the mental image projected by his words just wouldn't go away. She shut her eyes, bent her head, her curly locks falling around her, and forced the thoughts out and hid her blush. She could feel an intense wave of heat spread through her body with the mere words of Malfoy. Why the bloody hell did she just experience that?

Pushing her less-than decent thoughts of how a certain blond Slytherin's long digits left burning sensations on her skin at its wake, Hermione bit her lower lip. "You know that we didn't do that, git." She lifted her head up, still flustered, and glared at him. "Really... Why am I here?"

"Uhm... Because you fainted?" Draco answered.

"I knew that, you sodding prick! I'm asking of all places, why ::here::? Do I have to drill it on your puny brain?" Hermione retorted.

"Ah... That. I didn't think you'd overstay your invitation. Knowing you, you'd immediately bolt up and run through the gates and scream like a banshee." His nose crinkled in a smothered laugh. "But then again, you didn't, right? So would you rather have the house elves fix a guest room for you?" Draco picked up a strawberry from the bunch, and threw it in his mouth.

"No..." Hermione watched him as he chewed on the fruit agonizingly slow.

"Then eat. I don't want rumors to start that I'm not a hospitable host. Mother would kill me." Draco got another and plopped it in his mouth.

Hermione stared. How could a slimy, sleazy, bastard eat like a demigod? "I... I'm not hungry..." She managed to choke out after Draco's tongue darted out to lick the juices off his lips.

Draco, of course, noticed how the usually composed Gryffindor seemed to have run out of words at that moment. He wanted to ask her why, but when he saw where her eyes were currently fixed, he almost smirked in satisfaction.

So being the sodding git that he was, Draco picked up a third berry with excessive strength, his fingers bruising the skin of the fruit, and, as if he was an innocent child (which of course, would definitely be ::so:: not him), looked at the fruit curiously as red fluid crawled down the seedy skin. He sensed that Hermione was watching him with interest, and he felt much more confident about the bright and... Dirty... Trick that he devised spontaneously.

When Draco felt the sticky fluid crawling on his skin, he darted his tongue out and licked the glistening juices enthusiastically, starting from his wrist, going to the base of the fruit and up to the tip. He grazed his teeth on the tip of the fruit and bit on it, and without warning, his lips closed in on the fruit and began to suck its sweet essence.

Hermione's throat had suddenly gone dry, and her eyes seemed permanently glued to a pair of thin, reddening lips. She could just imagine what those lips could do to her...

Draco continued to rid the strawberry of its essence and felt behind him blindly for another strawberry. When his hands encountered a seedy fruit, he grabbed it violently and discreetly positioned the food near Hermione's cheek. He, much to Hermione's displeasure, removed his mouth from the fruit, making a sound that of a suction cup being removed, and stared directly at Hermione. "Now," He started, before rubbing the strawberry along Hermione's lips. "I told you to eat." He pushed the fruit into her mouth.

But Hermione just kept her mouth close. "I-I'm not--"

"Hungry?" Draco finished for her, before leaning over and licking the sticky juices off Hermione's lips.

Hermione gasped in surprise. Taking advantage, Draco threw the fruit in his mouth, chewed on it slightly and closed his mouth on Hermione's.

Hermione's quick-witted mind finally registered what was happening to her. Malfoy was actually and literally licking her! Now if only he'd do that on her...

She almost slapped herself. '_Bad, bad, bad Hermione!'_ Her rational part screamed. When did she start thinking of Malfoy as such?

She jumped slightly when she felt the probing tongue just outside of her lips gain access to her mouth. And being one who never backed down on a... Tough opponent, she moved her tongue against his.

And that was when she tasted the best strawberries in the world, because Draco Malfoy was feeding it to her using a very... Unique and sensual instrument. If for three months she had never eaten anything decent, this time, she felt like doing so... As long as it was Draco Malfoy feeding her.

Draco placed his tongue over hers, feeding her in the process. He felt her teeth scratch lightly on his tongue, pulling on the meshed fruit. He reached behind him again to get a strawberry while he kept his mouth busy, his other hand skimming her through her clothes while she arched her body against him.

When Draco pulled away, Hermione groaned in displeasure, already missing the contact. She leaned over, looking at Draco under her lashes, and pulled at the neckline of his robe.

"Wait," Draco stilled her fumbling hands. Seeing Hermione's confusion, he pushed the small bowl of whipped cream in her hand and placed the strawberry on the other. "Now, you feed me."

Hermione, more than anything else, was more than willing to comply. Shakily, she lifted her hand, dipped the fruit into the cream, and lifted it to Draco's mouth.

And being an insufferable prat, Draco closed his mouth before the fruit even entered it, causing the cream to smudge all over his lips. He grabbed her hands. "You dirtied me, Granger." He smirked. "Now you have to clean it." He said, still holding her hands in a vice grip, and he wasn't surprised when Hermione leaned over and licked the cream off his lips, and began to suckle the cream off his lower lip.

Draco responded eagerly, kissing her with the same amount of passion. He couldn't believe that little miss perfect would turn out to be this... Bold, and beautiful...

Hermione pulled away when she found no other traces of cream on his mouth, but he shook his head. "Not quite yet, Gryffindor." He grinned cockily, gesturing down to his torso. Some of the cream just dripped on his exposed chest.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That can be fixed, Malfoy." She reached out and used her middle finger to wipe the offending cream.

Draco felt a jolt of electricity shot up through his body at the mere contact, and felt all of his blood rush into his head as Hermione fluttered her eyes close and sucked the cream off her middle finger enthusiastically. His excitement grew stronger when she moved in front of him and used her tongue to lick off the remnants of the cream on his chest. She pulled away slightly after finishing, and looked up at Draco to see that he was looking down on her.

"Hermione..." He breathed, bringing his hands to rest on her shoulders and squeezing it lightly, before pushing her down on the sheets and breaking the restricting barriers between them.

------------------------

A/N: I'm sorry, I kinda suck in writing stories that rate more than a PG-13, as this is my first attempt, however I did try my best. And if it offends you (terribly), then I'm apologizing in advance.

Also, I wouldn't be able to post all of my fic within this year because our internet connection's screwed up… I'm just at an internet café as of press time. Sorry. Again.

Happy New Year to all!


	7. Amber Cradle

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissaspitfire at (links screw up, but this isn't meant to be one)

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Verse Five: Amber Cradle_

_It's not always rainbows and butterflies_

_It's compromise that moves us along_

_My heart is full and my door's always open_

_You could come anytime you want_

Hermione rolled unto her side groggily, feeling extremely tired and spent. She was surprised when she felt another weight shift slightly beside her, and that was when the memory of last night came back to her.

Slowly, she sat up, pulling the black blanket up slightly, and gazed at the viridian walls across the four-poster bed. The room was dark and cold, and she was quite sure the only heat in the room emanated from Draco and her body. Her gaze lingered on a particular banner hanging on the wall, where a snake was twined around a silver sword in the heart of the black fire-breathing dragon on a white and green background. The snake kind of resembled the one in the Slytherin logo, and the dragon and the foreground pattern on the Hogwarts flag, and she guessed that it was the Malfoy crest. Her guess was verified when she saw what seemed like a cursive letter M on the hilt of the sword. She breathed deeply, inhaling the spicy and musky scent of the room, before grasping a fistful of the black satin sheets covering their naked bodies.

Hermione was the most levelheaded Gryffindor. In all her years in Hogwarts, she had never done anything without planning first. She had always made sound decisions, which earned her the Head Girl position, and she always anticipated events even when Harry and Ron always dove into a situation with little or no knowledge of the details at all. She knew she was such a conventional geek, and that she was the stick-to-the-rules-and-you'll-be-fine student who felt horrible every time she broke the rules, but this time, it was as if she purposefully broke the rules.

The funny thing is, she felt good about it.

She had been having lurid and grave thoughts about her friendship with Ron and Harry falling apart, yet here she was, sitting on the bed at the center of one of the biggest rooms in the Malfoy Manor with just half of the sheets covering her naked body, staring at the Slytherin-ny walls, and befriending of all people, the supposed-to-be arch-enemy of their Triad. Just how in seven bloody hells would the world take it?

Hermione shifted slightly to see if he was awake, and her heart broke silently at the sight of the always-proud Slytherin King sleeping comfortably on his sanctuary. He was snoring slightly, his silver hair a beautiful mess against the obsidian pillows, his skin just a shade above his always deathly pale hue, and the tense lines on his face that knew only how to scowl and to sneer were gone. He looked just like a baby -- pure, innocent, defenseless and harmless... But Hermione knew that he was anything but those.

She marveled at how such a person almost everyone considered as despicable could look so peaceful in his slumber. He was a cold, insensitive, pompous pain-in-the-arse prick who took delight in other people's demise. But for the past few weeks, her firm resolve about him suddenly crumbled into smithereens. It was like he was a new person all in all...

... And no matter what she did, she felt that she was being drawn towards him.

Befriending Draco Malfoy was something quite dangerous, considering she is a third of the Golden Gryffindor Trio. And to have something much more than that with him...

... Since when did she start taking into consideration that she and Malfoy had something aside from rivalry?

Hermione cursed softly. How could someone she thought she knew all too well like him be such an enigma suddenly? She reached out to tuck an offending silvery-white lock on his face, the flats of her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face, unconsciously memorizing it before reluctantly leaving it. She felt like all the lessons she learned in Hogwarts were of no use, not even the rationalizing she always did gave her a plausible answer to the burning questions he always left her. It was like facing a hundred Professor Snapes and McGonagalls who asked different questions at the same time, or having all the first years from all the houses come ask for her help in going to different parts of the Hogwarts castle all at the same time. Both were difficult tasks, and thankfully, she only had to deal with half the stress of each situation (first being that Snape's inquiries proved to be quite a show for her classmates in their NEWT's, and the second having half of the first years seeking out for her every now and then to ask for the Head Girl's help). She felt very weary whenever she tried to solve so much questions from different persons; it felt like that and more when it came to a conundrum called Draco Malfoy. Why was she feeling confused about him all of a sudden?

A tear discreetly trickled down her cheeks without her noticing it, and she heaved a breath before slipping out of the bed. She began walking towards her discarded cloak and draping it around her, Hermione stealthily walked towards the bathroom. She figured she'd shower herself clean first, before heading back to her flat.

------------------------

She didn't see a pair of stormy gray eyes follow her as she walked with catlike grace towards the bathroom.

He had been awake long before she was, contemplating on what was going on inside his head. His thoughts the moment he opened his eyes have furthermore confused him, because instead of just waking her up from her sleep, he opted to watch her instead.

He propped himself on his elbows and pulled the sheets up slightly; the slight chill that passed him he knew would make Hermione shiver. Draco shifted, and blew lightly at her bangs to remove it from her eyes. He watched as her chest rose every time she took a breath, her breath coming out of her slightly parted mouth warming his exposed chest, her curly hair lying and flowing freely on the black pillows and on her slender shoulders. He reached out a hand to brush the curl of hair on her shoulders, but he stopped midway, and it hovered above her instead, tracing her figure without even touching her.

Draco was a person who never really cared if he hurt another person with his words and deeds, but when he saw Hermione sleeping, he felt horrible for all the times he failed to keep his mouth shut and exhibit his virtue of delicacy. She looked so content, different from how she always looked so rigid and tense that she would snap anytime, and she couldn't have been more beautiful and endearing to him. She was like an angel... An angel that the devil tainted.

She was the angel, and he was the devil.

This was the reason he couldn't bring himself to wake her up. He knew she was fragile, that even if she wore the pants most of the time in the Trio, she would crumble into the ground once Potter and Weasley left her side. Heck, even a grade a tad less that O would send her into tears! It was his fault she gave in; he himself didn't know what came over him to lose such composure. Draco couldn't bring himself to touch her, and he knew that what transpired the night before was wrong... Everything that happened was wrong in the first place.

He knew that she was a mud... Muggle-born, that she had bushy hair that looked very untamable, larger-than-normal front teeth, and that she was a stupid know-it-all, but now it all became apparent that all the things he saw and thought were negative about her were what really drew him to her. He was just too bitter to recognize it whenever the subject of Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley (well, not that much about him, really) and most especially Harry Potter came into conversation. He always fell short when it came to them, when in fact he had always exerted more than what his limitations allowed him. If only those judgmental people knew, how he always felt whenever the three were around...

Draco decided that he didn't need to think of those bad thoughts and that feigning sleep was much better when he felt her stir beside him. Immediately, he resumed his place and slowed his breathing, to make it seem that he was still sleeping.

But that was minutes ago, and now that he, too, sat up, and followed her with his gaze, he thought that he needed to get away first.

Draco stood up and put on his robes just as quiet as Hermione did, and slipped into his slippers and headed out of the room. It was time to clear his head out.

------------------------

She was ready for either a confrontation -- or an invitation even (though she thought it to be unlikely) -- from Malfoy when she came out from the bath clothed in just a silk negligé she grabbed from the bathroom, only to have the sight of a now-made bed without a Greek god in slumber, and a set of new robes and a ribbon of the same hue waiting for her on top of it surprise her. She was more than baffled that he was gone and that a new set of robes were prepared for her, but Hermione pushed the thoughts aside as she approached the bed slowly, fingering her wand in her pocket; when her Auror instincts kicked in, she knew there wasn't any hex or curse on the bed.

"Colloprotus," she waved her wand at the door to lock it, and she began to peel off the negligé and put on the robes, her eyes darting around, wary of any intruder in the room. When she had placed the robes on, she found a full-length mirror standing at the far corner and she approached it, marveling at the elegant blood red dress robes she was wearing. It felt good against her skin, and when she got the ribbon to tie it on her curly fringes, it slipped easily from her hands.

After much fumbling and a few spells later, she rushed out of the room, desperate to find Malfoy, but she came to an abrupt halt just after stepping out of his room when she found a form with silvery-white hair sitting just outside the doors. The black-clad figure looked up just as she stepped out of the door, and the figure stood up gracefully. She felt her jaw drop when her eyes met light gray ones.

"Come downstairs into the Breakfast Hall and have breakfast with me, Miss Granger."

It was Malfoy, all right... Narcissa Malfoy.

------------------------

Hermione stared at the feast in front of her and her hostess, her heart filled with apprehension of destroying the lovely setting that she knew the house elves invested both blood and sweat for.

"Bon Appetit, Mademoiselle." Narcissa smiled from across Hermione, and began to eat the slice of black Oscar cake in front of her.

Hermione took the stainless fork and did just the same, suddenly having enough appetite to eat, chewing on the food slowly and relishing its taste. She looked around the Breakfast Hall and marveled at the huge paintings of the fields and pastures hanging on the wide walls, and admired the beauty of the gardens from the huge windows. She also liked how the tiny petals of lavender printed on the white walls and the pastel hues of the curtains gave the room a very homely atmosphere, and the chirping sounds of birds, the scent of the morning dew and the caress of the wind reminded her of the Malfoys' hospitality. She stared at the intricate bobbin laces designed on the tablecloth, and based on how much artsy and magnificent things inside the manor were, Narcissa Malfoy had full control over the house.

"I see that my dress robes suited you quite well." Narcissa continued after drinking tea. "I hope you didn't mind that I just made you wear one of my dresses instead of a new one. I just came home from Russia last midnight, and Lardy has informed me of an unexpected visitor that Draco had. And being Draco, he wouldn't have anything suitable for you to change into. I wouldn't want you wearing baggy clothing when you leave our manor." She dabbed the table napkin at the side of her lips. "You don't mind that, do you?"

"Uh, no, no." Hermione waved her hand. "I don't mind, Mrs. Malfoy. But really, you didn't have to--"

"Nonsense, dear! It is one of my favorite clothes, but it doesn't fit anymore. I almost lost hope that I wouldn't see someone fit to wear it, and I'm just glad that I didn't have to sell it to Madame Malkin's again. Do think of it as a gift, Miss Granger." She smiled at Hermione.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione returned the smile, before resuming to eat her food.

After a few minutes of silence, Narcissa spoke. "I would like to apologize for my son's lack of customary hospitality, Miss Granger. I should have known that Draco would be like that... Reminds me of Lucius when he gets cranky, that he does."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Malfoy had been good to her as far as a host's responsibility of feeding guests and accommodating them are concerned, but in the sleeping arrangement, well... She couldn't quite place that anywhere, especially since the host just shared...

Hermione's face colored slightly as her thoughts went to what her... activities were just last night. She looked down on her plate, hiding her face from Narcissa's view.

"... When I came upstairs to talk to Draco. I was knocking at Draco's door, but he wouldn't answer..."

Hermione blushed harder. So that explains the loud sound from the door...!

"... Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up abruptly and saw the Mistress of the house looking at her. "P-Pardon?"

Narcissa's eyebrow shot up in amusement. She smiled softly while shaking her head. "I said, I should arrange the wedding plans for the two of you, don't you think?"

"M-Mrs. Malfoy!" Hermione blushed deeper into her roots. "Malf-Draco and I... W-We're not..." She trailed off. What were they anyway? They weren't friends, more so lovers or anything... But what does last night mean? What does it mean to her and to him? Was it just friendly shagging? Just something to ease the sexual tension between them and nothing else? Come to think of it, Draco was not there when she came out from the bathroom...

Narcissa saw the slide show of emotions in Hermione's auburn eyes. Was she thinking about what happened? "Oh. And here I thought I'll be expecting grandchildren..." She trailed off.

"I-It's not like that, Mrs. Malfoy. I admit, Mal-Draco is a rather charming and captivating boy -- I mean, gentleman, but..." Hermione stopped. But what? They just shagged like never before to vent out their frustrations? That they just wanted to get it on and have sex? It would be so immature, but what reasons do they really have for doing such? It was just a spur of the moment thing...

Or is it?

Hermione suddenly felt like not eating anymore, and she dabbed the table napkin on her lips, preparing to excuse herself.

Narcissa set down her fork, sipped the last of her tea and began dabbing the napkin all over her mouth. She knew that Hermione was confused now, and it wouldn't bode well with her hostess abilities if her guest wanted to leave at once just because of that. And besides, she still had plans for Hermione today... "I would like to show you around the manor, Miss Granger. That is, if you don't mind." She beamed at her, a smile she knew that not even Voldemort, when he visited Lucius, could resist.

Hermione was mesmerized. Narcissa was indeed a charmer. Because if she wasn't, she was sure the indifferent and pureblooded bravado of Lucius Malfoy hadn't melted... And there would be no Draco Malfoy in the Wizarding World. Why, Harry Potter and the Gryffindors would be nothing without the antagonizing force!

And besides, Hermione wouldn't have someone to compete with in school, no one would have to insult and irritate her any chance possible (though that didn't really matter to her), no one else would be just as smart and witty as he is to be assigned to work hand in hand with, no one capable enough to help her that much in her Head Duties just as he could...

... And no one else to shag her senseless and make her feel like she was loved?

Shoving her thoughts aside, she smiled at Narcissa in return. "It would be an honor, Mrs. Malfoy."

------------------------

Hermione was quite sure that her own footfalls were the only ones echoing in the hallway. Narcissa walked slowly and deliberately beside her, her impeccable black robes barely moving with her legs. She moved with so much grace that she looked like she was a ghost gliding in the hallways, what with her long, silvery-white hair free from the unusual and elegant French twist Hermione only saw the lady wearing, and her pale complexion contrasting the robes vividly. She would surreptitiously glance at her out of the corner of her eye just to admire her beauty. She looked so frail and helpless, but with the past events since fourth year, Hermione knew that she was a very strong woman -- and still is -- because she managed to extricate herself from the Imperius Curse, and she never crumbled into the ground when her husband was found to be beyond sanity.

In fact, the more Hermione looked at her, the more she saw the striking resemblance Draco had with his mother. The silver eyes, aristocratic nose, the thin and soft hued lips, the pale skin, even the long and slender effeminate fingers of Draco came from her!

When she first saw Lucius Malfoy in Flourish and Blott's way back second year, she almost mistook him as her pain-in-the-arse classmate who suddenly had an advanced growth spurt at the age of twelve. But now she knew that Draco looked more like his mother, especially since their eyes were soft, molten silver and rimmed with the faintest blue -- unusual for anyone to have, really. Maybe she only saw Lucius in Draco because of the same arrogance and air they exuded.

They came to a stop in front of large mahogany double doors with brass designs and doorknobs. Narcissa held the handle and opened it, motioning her to follow, that of which she willingly complied to. But the moment she caught sight of the whole room, she felt a warm feeling seep through her whole being.

The walls were painted the faintest of green (is there any other color in the manor?), and the sunlight coming from the huge window at the other side of the room enveloped her. She glanced around, staring at a few paintings and canvas standing around the room, and the settee placed strategically just in the window's peripheral. She walked slowly towards a canvas standing near the window, staring intently at the sketch of a ballroom where what seemed like a couple danced. She touched the canvas, and she thought she experienced a jolt of electricity upon contact with the object, and she suddenly had a fleeting memory.

------------------------

_"He's from Durmstrang!… fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!" _

Ron shouted at her at the middle of the Yule Ball celebration, thinking how stupid enough she was to get mixed up with Viktor Krum while the champions were competing. Most of the students were looking at them already, and he ranted on and on about whatever offending he could think of, unaware of the anger rising in her.

_"Don't call him Vicky!"_

She stalked off at that moment, eyes blazing angrily at all the people who got in her way, half the dance floor parting as she muttered to herself about red heads and irrational thinking.

_"Granger."_

At the edge of the dance floor near the double doors, she saw Malfoy standing there, impeccable black robes falling fastidiously on his body, its high collar making him look like a vicar and a harmless man, though apparently he isn't. She thought she saw Pansy Parkinson edge nearer, but she didn't care then. She was far too furious at Ron for not thinking clearly.

_"Out of my way, Malfoy."_

_"Livid because Potty and Weasel left you for other girls? What would the old croon say?"_ He stood there, undeterred, sneering at her.

_"Shut up!"_ She tried to push him away and pass through peacefully, but he didn't move an inch. _"I said out of my way, git!"_

_"No."_

_"Please, Malfoy. Kindly sod off."_ She seethed.

_"My, what language, Granger."_ His smirk, if possible, grew even bigger, before fading almost instantly to be replaced by a serious stare. _"Not until I get what I want."_

_"And what, pray tell, do you want from a filthy muggle-born?"_

He shrugged, and she remembered seeing a slight curve of a sneer forming at the corner of his mouth. _"A dance."_

_"A dance? And the sky must be falling!"_ She snapped at him. She thought she saw a scowl come over his features and he glared at her. Somehow, she saw Ron do just that several minutes ago, while he bellowed about the betrayal she supposedly did. And like a broken record, his words repeated in her mind. _Fraternizing with the enemy…_

_"Well? Or are you scared? Don't worry; I don't step on a dance partner's feet, unlike Krum." _He snickered slightly, before flashing her a twisted, lopsided grin.

She stared at him defiantly, lifting her chin slightly at him in an arrogant manner. _"Fine. Just one."_ She agreed at that time, blinded by her ire at Ron. _'Fraternizing with the enemy, huh? I'll show you..'_ She thought as Malfoy took her gloved hand and whisked her away to the dance floor.

------------------------

She felt a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she colored slightly, remembering how foolish she was to agree to dance with him then just because of her fury. He was a good dancer though, not like Viktor at all, for Viktor often stepped on her foot that day. While she considered him the enemy then, he acted as gentlemanly as possible, as they danced an upbeat music he whirled her around with precaution, but with the slow songs he just held her there, under the Great Hall's enchanted ceilings that had fireworks and snow; and the whole dance floor didn't seem to notice them while they danced. And well, they both lost track of time, so much for that one dance she stubbornly set. Viktor was actually half-disappointed and half-glad to see her dancing with Malfoy, graciously cutting in and reminding them unconsciously of the time. They were, after all, family friends. She thought she saw Malfoy reluctantly release her, and she was, too, though she wouldn't admit to that. But the dance wasn't something the students gossiped about some time later, which meant the dance they shared wasn't something for headlines. Well, Harry and Ron were just too oblivious to not notice that then, because the blazing row she had with Ron after the Ball didn't revolve around Malfoy but Krum. She almost wanted them to take notice, but... Well, let's just say that it takes ages before a block of ice is melted.

She jolted out of reverie as she heard the mistress of the manor speak.

"He used to always spend his time here way back," said Narcissa. "... But he never finished anything, though. Lucius would always send him out of this room. I never thought that under this would be where Lucius performs his Dark Arts magic."

Hermione's eye grew wide at the realization that hit her. So that must mean… "S-So these are Mal-Draco's works?" She darted her eyes around the room, taking in all the huge canvases, all with beautiful drawings left unfinished. _Wait… Send Malfoy out of the room?_ That was when it clicked. Every work was not finished, because Lucius Malfoy sent his son out of the room all the time to practice his Dark Arts here… _So, this is the famous Drawing Room of the Malfoys!_ She wondered why when Malfoy helped her did they not pass through this room, considering under this was where the dungeons were located, but she realized that they apparated into the dungeons after several flights of stairs, and she was unconscious when they came back.

Narcissa nodded. "Have a seat, Miss Granger."

Hermione sat down on the soft chair across Narcissa, still staring intently at the almost-done sketch of a girl dancing with an invisible partner. Only the partner of the girl was missing, everything else in the picture was drawn in detail; and the portrait seemed alive, even without the hues.

"That was the only drawing he came close to finishing." Narcissa saw Hermione staring at the drawing. "This was his favorite room since childhood, but ever since your fifth year in Hogwarts, this room became his least favorite."

"Why so, Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

Narcissa glanced at her before continuing. "You see, every time he spends his free time here, he draws. He manages to draw the things he deemed to be beautiful. But Lucius would always storm in, sometimes even drags him just to send him out." Narcissa's gaze landed on a torn canvas at the corner of the room. "Often times he would reprimand Draco here about not being able to catch the Snitch, or when he ranks only second in school, or when he finds his actions disapproving."

Hermione felt a stab of guilt on her heart. Was Lucius Malfoy that despicable when not in the right mind? And if so, then indirectly, it was their fault that Malfoy loathed them, because he always fell short against them and his father would punish him...

"If he ever treated you badly in Hogwarts, which I'm quite sure he did, I'd like to apologize in his behalf, Miss Granger. I myself do not understand at first why Lucius wanted so badly for you and your friends to, you know." Narcissa placed a hand on her hands that were resting on the table.

"It's all right, Mrs. Malfoy." She retorted. "Although he may have hurt us, Harry, Ron and I have all decided to put it past him. Well, save for Ron. They still couldn't get past the brawling instincts sometimes." Hermione laughed good-naturedly.

Narcissa chuckled silently, before sighing audibly and staring out of the window. "If I had known that it would change him…"

Hermione wondered why of all people, Narcissa was telling the Malfoy secrets to her. True, the Wizarding World forgave the Malfoys for their transgressions during the War, but… "I-I hope you don't mind my asking, Mrs. Malfoy, but…Why are you telling me all these?"

Narcissa reverted her gaze at her and merely smiled. "I just wanted to, really. It's not everyday that Draco brought a friend here at home. He doesn't let anyone visit here, even Pansy and Blaise never came over to just talk or do something, always the other way around." Her smile grew bigger. "He said he'd bring someone most special to him, if ever."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I-I'm not…" Hermione blushed rapidly.

"Dear," Narcissa pointed to the painting she was staring at just a while ago. "That is Draco's favorite work, although he never finished it anymore. You know what the story is behind it?"

Hermione shook her head, an indication for Narcissa to continue. "He said that the first time he attended the Hogwarts Yule Ball, he saw a girl that caught his eye, dressed in floaty, periwinkle blue floor-length dress, her hair sleek and shiny, and her smile as radiant as the morning sun. Later on, he realized that that girl was the same girl he was forced to hate, but at that night, she looked like another person altogether, because she carried herself quite splendidly. He envied his friend who got the chance to ask her out to be his date, so as he sat with Blaise, Pansy, Millicent, Vincent and Gregory, he watched the pair, dancing, wishing he could get a chance to dance with her even just once."

Hermione felt her cheeks burning. That can't be…!

"… He did get the chance, and so even with the possibility that the whole school would hate him more and that her friends would pry the girl away from him, he asked her for a single dance. I'm fairly surprised that he even counted how many songs they danced to." Narcissa stood up and stared at the canvas, tracing the empty space allotted for the girl's dancing partner, before turning to look at her. "It was you, Hermione."

------------------------

Draco downed his seventh glass of Russian vodka, glaring mutinously at the fireplace.

He was already having a difficult time handling the Black estates and the Malfoy businesses while helping his mother in managing the manor. Sure, his Malfoy charm did wonders to the family business, but he knew that it wasn't enough for the people to trust them just like they did then. He has to prove himself worthy, or else most of them would question his position in the company. He was only nineteen, fresh out of Hogwarts, inexperienced, and most of all, he never really had a likeable reputation, (but when it comes to looks... that was out of the question) and he knew that him starting a clean slate would give rise to doubts.

And then there's Hermione.

Draco threw the goblet against the wall, the alcoholic substance somehow reaching the flames and making the tongues flicker and rise further, biting the furnace. He was glad that his father cast wards around the library to conceal whatever business transpired in his office, and he was fairly sure no one would hear the shattering noise the glass made.

He was mad at himself for losing control. He shouldn't have lost his control that easily, but he couldn't help it. Hermione looked so beautiful, sitting there on his bed with the silken sheets tucked up to her belly, as if she was made to be writhing under him as he pinned her between his body and the huge four-poster. He could still remember vividly how her body fit snugly against his, and how her touch stirred his cold and dead to the world soul and ignited his passion, how her porcelain skin slipped and smacked with his, how she moaned and gasped out in ecstasy every time he touched her, and how it all felt right.

It was a first for her, as it was to him, and he could tell; he was sorry for hurting her then, yet she, like the brave Gryffindor she was, matched him pace for pace. It was an amazing experience; something he would painstakingly tuck into the depths of his heart, but then...

It was so wrong… So wrong, because she isn't supposed to be tainted by someone like him -- an evil, despicable and insufferable prat who did nothing but grate on her nerves way back. So wrong, because he knew that the cease-fire status he, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had mutually and silently agreed upon would immediately go into red alert. So wrong, because he knew that even if he wanted her like water for chocolate, she would never have him.

Yes, once in a while, Draco Malfoy knew when to admit when there is something he couldn't have.

And he knew that everything he had with her would have to be forgotten. It was time for him to move on, anyway. And it's not like they actually had anything special going on between them.

With his resolve firm, Draco muttered a cleaning spell on the mess he made, and sifted through his father's documents. It would be best to work harder than ever to have him not thinking of anything about her anymore.

------------------------

"James and Sirius would always leave me behind. James to chase Lily, and Sirius to go off with Remus and play pranks on Severus, or both. I know the feeling of being left out, Hermione." Narcissa spoke after a few minutes of silence as she led her through the hallways and the flights of stairs.

"Wha--You... Know? I mean, how--" Hermione stuttered.

"Dear," Narcissa smiled. "Draco may appear cold and indifferent towards you and everyone else, but he isn't insensitive. He knows how you are feeling."

"He does? He does..." Hermione trailed off. That explains why Malfoy had been looking at her intently even in Hogwarts. That someone understood or even knew the feeling was indeed a good thing. It wasn't a wonder why Narcissa Malfoy, ice queen extraordinaire, coined such name because she experienced the same as she did. Maybe that's why... Wait. Sirius Black? Narcissa Black? "Sirius...? You mean...?"

"Yes, Sirius is my cousin. Mother wanted him to look after me in Hogwarts, since father insisted that I go to Hogwarts instead of in Beaubaxtons Academy, where she wanted me to study." Narcissa replied. "They would turn into their animagus form," she stopped, as if pondering something, and then continued, "or in Remus's case, his once a month transformation, and then they'd leave me in the Common Room to study alone. James could have made me borrow his Invisibility Cloak and slip in with Remus to go with them instead. It's not like I was enemies with Lily."

"You're a... Gryffindor?"

"No," Narcissa laughed good-naturedly. "I'm a certified Slytherin. But I was the only Slytherin allowed access to the Gryffindor Common Room."

"Oh..." Hermione mumbled, unable to say anything.

"Sirius never really did a good job of keeping an eye on me. He's always busy and oftentimes had left me to fend for myself against Lucius. But that's how Lucius charmed me, anyway. I don't blame my cousin, since its not all that bad." Narcissa looked at Hermione surreptitiously, gauging her reaction. Hermione Granger should get the fact she was trying to give her.

Narcissa saw herself in Hermione when she was a teenager. She felt rebellious, unloved and unappreciated by James, Remus and Sirius, but she understood the boys' need to be free, instead of being locked up all day in their dorms. She knew, but she never told Sirius of her feelings when it came to that matter, that she also wanted to participate; that she was also up to whatever they were doing. She would remember that mistake forever, but a good thing came out of it anyway. If it had not been in that situation, she wouldn't have had a chance to have frequent spell-hurtling sessions and taunt exchange with the arrogant, ever-proud and self-proclaimed embodiment of everything Slytherin (at that time), Lucius Malfoy.

Narcissa believed that whatever Hermione was experiencing right now would teach her to value everything around her, and to sometimes think of herself too. But Narcissa purposefully left out the details on how they, Lucius and she, got together… Besides, it was something akin to what was happening now between her and Draco.

The two reached the huge mahogany doors secured firmly and bolted to prevent burglars, and with a sigh of resignation, she spoke. "Now run along, Miss Granger. I know you're a busy lady, and I apologize profusely for interfering with your daily routine."

"It's okay, Mrs. Malfoy. You were a very gracious hostess." Hermione smiled. "And besides, said routine have been quite tedious lately. It wouldn't hurt to get out of it once in a while."

"That's good to hear." Replied Narcissa as she watched the house elf hail a coach from outside.

When Hermione climbed into the coach, she suddenly stopped. "Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, your dress robes--"

Narcissa pushed her into the carriage. "Ah, you can keep that." She smiled at her, and closed the door.

"But--"

"Not another word, Hermione. I insist you keep it." Narcissa motioned the coachman to go. "Be safe, dear!"

Hermione felt another protest coming out from her mouth, but she just shoved it back. It would be rude to let down her hostess, and she knew from rumors that it was difficult to get to the Lady Malfoy's good graces, and it may have been a miracle that she even made it out of the Malfoy Manor alive and unscathed. So instead, she smiled at her -- a genuine, happy one that she saw was mirrored on the Lady's face.

------------------------

»Some Additional Notes«

I'd like to personally thank all of the reviewers out there, thanks so much for reviewing! You don't know how much of my time and effort I've been exerting for this fic. This is my first fic, and I know the reviews aren't that much, but it is still a great thing.

Saraneth90 – thanks! I kind of brought that out from out of nowhere, you know. D No, it was really a very emotional and angsty stuff I wrote there. Hehe.

Lucifer's Garden – woohoo! I love you too! j/k! Thanks for reviewing!

Sw33tdohtee – 'you capture the characters wonderfully.' I'm glad I really did! I didn't even expect that anyone would notice this one. I mean, it ::is:: a songfic. But still, thanks! No, don't worry, Draco and Hermione doesn't have to be official in the book, we have our own preference… Though if I really ::had:: the power to change HP, or lord over J.K. Rowling-sama, I'd do that. Hehe. ::hides from rabid JKR fans::… And the R scene was HOT? Really? Considering I really haven't done it (no, I'm not being a prude, I promise. I have nothing against those who have done it!), was it really ::that:: good? I can't believe it…!

Heavenn Hell – thanks! And don't worry, the party's up in just a few chaps!

Kace08 – yep, Draco with Pansy and Blaise with Hermione… Don't you smell something funny with that arrangement? Hehehe. Unexpected… Heh. Have I caught you off-guard? And why are you looking around? ::evil glint:: Are you… Hehe, never mind!!!!

Bharathnatyam – sounds like you? Then you must be my twin! ::glomps:: My long-lost twin!!!!!!! ::grins sheepishly:: er, sorry… Hehehe. Thanks for reading!

B-a-b-i – thanks for taking time! I'm glad you liked the interaction. I did too! ::beams::

Spychick989 – Here's more! D

Justanotherharmlessprankster -- Yep, installations. And this is the seventh. Thanks for reading!

Kittypilla – thanks! And the ball's coming up… And there are a lot of surprises…

PrincessJB – 'PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MORE!' Yes, yes, yes, I'm writing more! ::grins stupidly:: Hehehe. Here it is! Hope you enjoyed this…

DarkSeductress – You mean you also connect with Hermione's personality? Wow. I didn't know many people are feeling that way, really. I'm not much of a people-person nowadays, especially when I withdrew from the outside world… Hehehe. You know what I mean. You find it wonderful? I'm really glad you did. I almost thought it was a futile attempt on fiction, really!

Venus725 – 'Oh. My. God. I sure do love this story!' Thanks for loving it, really! Is it really that good? Because in my opinion it isn't… Thanks for reviewing and reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

And to those who have read, thanks so much for reading! I just hope I do hear from you soon! ::hint-hint:: Heh. Thanks again!

Next Chapter: Rendezvous, dress robes, butterbeers, and a very, very, ::very:: unexpected person. Oh, and another pathetic attempt in smut. Heh. I just hope those I've offended wouldn't be so offended anymore… On second thought… Argh. Whatever. Review again! Thanks again! I'm going again!

Er… Yep. Sugar and coffee overdose, peeps. So please bear with me. Thanks!

Ja, mata ne! (… wrong fandom, really, but what the heck, it was just a see you later…! ;))


	8. Silver Shining

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com (links screw up, but this isn't meant to be one)

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

BTW, this is kinda R, so… Read at your own risk!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Verse Six: Silver Shining_

__

I don't mind spending everyday

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with a broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay a while_

_And she will be loved_

_And she will be loved_

_And she will be loved_

_And she will be loved_

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up from her book and saw Pansy running towards her, her soft pink robes flying behind her as the Slytherin rushed to the bench she was sitting at. She smiled at the girl in return. "Pansy!"

Pansy stopped just in front of the bench and sat down unceremoniously. "I-I'm sorry, Hermione. Father was rather hard to wriggle out of." She panted out, clutching her chest.

"That's quite all right, Pansy." Hermione nodded slightly, reverting to her book. "Take a breather first before we go."

Pansy tried to calm her breathing, heaving huge amounts of oxygen into her lungs, and glanced at the book her companion was reading. "What's that?"

Hermione closed the book immediately, feeling abashed. "I-It's nothing, really."

Pansy grabbed the book from her and read the cover, much to Hermione's indignation. "Memoirs of a Geisha... A muggle book?" Pansy looked at the other witch. "You read muggle books?"

"Well--"

"That's great! Do you have other books like these? I never really had a chance to read one, Father made sure I couldn't take hold of them. Can I borrow this, please?" Pansy shrieked, or a tad less than that.

Hermione chuckled at Pansy's enthusiasm. "S-Sure, sure. I have lots of others in my flat. If you want we could go there later." She was practically ecstatic!

"Really?!" Pansy asked, and saw Hermione nod her head in response. "This is just way... Cool... Do you have romance novels?"

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Umm, no... No... But I'm sure we could arrange a lending agreement with Lavender regarding that."

Pansy's eyes were glittering with joy while talking about whatever Hermione tuned out, and Hermione couldn't help but feel good that she had once again made someone happy, though a twinge of sadness nagged in her.

Does it always have to be someone else that she could make happy? Does it always have to be her parents, Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, the other Gryffindors, Dumbledore and the Wizarding World? Does she always have to stick to the conventional, because it would make everyone happy?

She always convinced herself that as long as the ones she loved were happy, she was happy. She ::should:: be happy. But isn't it about time she got her own happiness? She is but human, too -- imperfect and lacking of certain abilities, needing air and water and food and shelter, thriving for knowledge and wisdom, wanting for worldly satisfaction only Malfoy could give her that would make her experience heaven on earth...

Hermione blushed. Did she just think that last bit?

"Hermione?"

Hermione snapped out of reverie and turned to look at Pansy, who was eagerly staring at her. She felt stupid, actually, tuning her out like that. "O-Okay, we'll go to my flat later."

Pansy frowned slightly. "I wasn't talking about the books, Hermione. I was saying how you should go to Venice and spend the summer with Blaise and me. You weren't listening."

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Oh, sorry..."

"Is something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head profusely. "No, no... Just some things about work, don't worry." She got up, straightened her olive robes and slung the strap of her purse on. "Let's get those butterbeers I promised." She smiled slightly at Pansy before hiding her face from her by turning to walk ahead.

She didn't notice how Pansy's smile turned lopsided and diabolical behind her.

Pansy had been eyeing her since she tuned her out. At first, she felt furious at Hermione for not listening, but when she saw the distant and strained look on her face, she had a good idea at what was going on in her brainy friend's mind.

For years even before the Astronomy tutorial she had with Hermione, Pansy observed her from a distance. She really didn't find the idea of pureblood-mudblood classification quite convincing, but as the Slytherin Princess, she had to keep up the tradition of that twisted concept and the forever-winding house rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Hermione was, after all, the Gryffindor Princess, and their respective best friends positively loathed each other. And honestly, she didn't think calling Weasley the Gryffindor Pauper was justifiable. It wasn't his fault that he was born penniless!

She wanted to befriend her at least, not really a best friend, but someone she could casually talk to. Good thing Sinistra suggested that tutorial, because she thought that the Fifth Year events would finally crush her hopes in doing so.

And somehow, much to her luck, even her childhood friend managed to see her in a different perspective. Draco Malfoy never wavered in his opinions, save for the Death Eater issue and of course, Hermione.

She knew what happened a few days ago, and she was actually looking forward to going into Hogsmeade with Hermione. Draco was very distracted, and his attempts in preoccupying himself with work were futile. Even Blaise got away with sitting on the wing chair in his office! After much pestering and coaxing, Draco reluctantly told them what happened that fateful night, and how he decided that enough is enough and that he should forget whatever happened between them for the past few weeks._ "That is," _she could still hear Draco's weary voice telling them,_ "If there really is something between us." _She had to admit, she was a bit shocked when she heard him retell the events, unlike Blaise, who remained very receptive of the idea of the odd. But then again, Blaise was another story.

But that doesn't erase the fact that Draco was just as befuddled and disturbed as Hermione is.

"You're just as confused as Draco is," Pansy whispered, her smile fading into a worried one. "Smart people. Always bonkers when it comes to matters of the heart." She shook her head, before finally standing up and running towards Hermione, who was already almost a block away. "Hermione, wait up!"

------------------------

It took all of his willpower not to throw the mahogany table in front of him and stalk out of the conference room. The old coot slash one of the company's business partners has been at it for the whole meeting! It had been two bloody hours since they started!

As he finally adjourned the gruesome meeting, he immediately slipped into his office, threw on his coat and walked, more like stalked, towards the door.

A flash of silver on the head chair caught his eye, and he stopped from slinking out of the room to turn back and stare into a pair of dark gray eyes.

"Draco."

------------------------

"And he just... Began running about with his hair on fire! I had to hold my stomach to prevent myself from bursting out, he looked so utterly ridiculous!" Pansy finished jovially, recounting on one of the many funny things she saw during their stay in Hogwarts.

Hermione chuckled lightly and half-heartedly. She isn't really in the mood for a laughathon with anyone, but she knew she should be. Aside from it being rude and offending to Pansy, there were things she had to allow herself to indulge in. Laughing was not in her normal routine (since Harry and Ron always talked about three blasted balls, six hoops and fourteen people flying about on what could be a venue for studies instead), and baking or cooking the muggle way could be a very interesting hobby, but strangely, she had a very... Interesting vision about sheets, lights and greens just that moment. Now ::that:: was queer.

"And you're not at all listening, you know that?"

Hermione's gaze suddenly focused at Pansy and she smiled shyly. "I-I was just thinking about work, a-and I think I left--"

"Is anything wrong, Hermione?" Pansy set down her butterbeer and plucked at the kidney pie on the small tray placed in front of them. "You're not yourself. Is there a blast-ended skrewt on your dress?"

"N-No, no, Pansy. Thanks for your concern. Don't worry; if that happens, I'll have Colin Creevey take a shot." Hermione smiled despite herself. "It's not likely to happen anyway."

"Don't you want that shepherd's pie? You haven't touched it one bit." Pansy enquired further.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not that hungry... You can have it, if you like." She grinned slightly, before her face turned into a wistful frown.

Pansy moued in indignation. "Then why are you spacing out? I thought your parents are faring better now, and that you've gone to visit them...?"

"Yes, they're faring much better now, but I haven't visited them." Hermione lied, and honestly, she didn't like lying from those around her. Well, she couldn't just go about telling anyone in public that she just used Dark Arts to go through the barriers that the Ministry set for muggle-borns, it would cost her her job, not to mention they'd be shocked to find out who her conspirator was...

"But I thought Draco helped you--"

Hermione's eyes turned upward to stare openly at Pansy. "Draco what? I-I mean, Malfoy what?"

Pansy stopped from eating and stared back. "You know very well what I mean, Hermione. It's not that big of an issue."

"That git," Hermione tsked. "And to think he promised not to tell anyone. I should have known."

"Merlin's bathrobe, Hermione!" Pansy exclaimed exasperatedly. "It's not like I'll be going around babbling about that to the Ministry!" She gulped some butterbeer before continuing. "Do you think that once the Ministry gains knowledge about your illegal crossover, it's just you that they'd be punishing? Draco took a risk of Azkaban just to help you!"

"Well..." Hermione felt dumb. But of course, it isn't likely that Pansy would do that, even if she weren't friends with her. It would put Draco in great danger.

And besides, she wouldn't want that to happen.

Hermione fought the blush from showing. No, she is ::so:: not thinking about what happened after they had arrived from muggle London, really. It was something else... Like concern for her own skin... Rescuing one's hide... "I-I'm sorry, Pansy."

Pansy smiled. "It's okay. And besides, you really couldn't blame him. The Malfoys, like us Parkinsons and any other pureblooded families out there, are Machiavellians. Even the Weasleys."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah. That was really foolish of me." She placed some honey on her scones.

"So..." Pansy drawled out and gave Hermione a meaningful look.

Hermione looked up at Pansy and caught the evil glint in her eyes. "So...?" She repeated, unsure of Pansy's apparent use of her facial features, before she saw Pansy shake her head and smile slightly. "What?"

"Aren't you going to tell me something important?" Pansy retorted.

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "... No..."

"No?" Pansy mirrored her gesture. "Hmm... You're not a boring person, Hermione. Surely there ::is:: something interesting that happened to you lately. Well, aside from crossing over."

Hermione had an unsettling feeling that Pansy was thinking along the same lines that her thoughts were running. That is, about bloody annoying blondes and roaming fingers. "No, sorry. N-nothing's up with me." She said rather stiffly. Later on, she would find herself justifying this denial as to private and clandestine affairs not meant to be shared, however splendid and amazing the experience may be.

Uh... Did she just think that?

"Ah..." Her thoughts were interrupted by Pansy's voice. "Nothing at all... All right, whatever you say..."

Hermione wondered if Pansy was indeed talking about what she had in her thoughts just that instant. Because if she was, half the population would most likely want to march up to the Malfoy Manor and demand that Draco be hanged for the crime of touching even a smidgen of skin on Hermione Granger's body.

The thought just made her want to laugh out hysterically.

Pansy ignored the fact that Hermione seemed oblivious. It was quite obvious that she was not used to people listening to her stories. To quote Draco,_ "she was stuck with two prats prattling endlessly about Quidditch." _She'll come around eventually. _'And what better timing,'_ she thought, _'for our evil little plans be set into execution!' _Schooling a dismissive face, Pansy cried out as casually and out-of-the-blue-ish-ly as she could. "By the way, you're going to that Yearend Ball, right? Blaise asked me if I could ask you to go with him to the Ball. Bloody git has no date."

"Blaise?"

"Yeah. That bloke just made me, once again, a messenger." Pansy rolled her eyes in exasperation. "But you'll go with him, right? Potter and Weasley are in Würzburg."

Hermione's mind went into overdrive at the mention of her best friends. _'Oh no, what would Harry and Ron say when they find out?'_ The thought of her best friends and their reaction towards what was happening to her now that they're away never even crossed her mind. What would they say? What would they do? Will they be furious at her? Will they go up to... Him, and try to kill him?

Or better yet, would they even react violently? Do they still care that much for her to even attempt to do something as drastic as that?

Come to think of it, she hadn't bothered thinking about her troubles regarding Harry and Ron these past few days, simply because of Malfoy.

__

Malfoy...

Almost instantly, all the feelings he evoked from her began reeling back into her memory. The fleeting touches, the soft and gentle caresses, the intense kisses and...

"Well?"

"... Haah?" Hermione retorted rather funnily. _'Oooh, that git!'_

"Are you going or not? You see," Pansy pulled on a worried face. "I kind of... Dropped him like a hot potato when Father, well, asked me to go with Draco."

"Dropped Blaise? Why did you drop him just like that? W-w-why didn't you just tell your Father that you were going with Blaise?" Hermione was baffled.

"Well, this will be the last favor I'm going to do for my Father before I..." She trailed off.

"Before you...?"

"Before I tell him that I don't want to end up with Draco." Pansy ended confidently. "He'll have apoplexy when he finds out I'm dating Blaise instead of Draco." Pansy smiled crookedly.

"Your Father doesn't like Blaise?" Now that was something for Witch Weekly to feast on. Who would have thought that Mr. Parkinson didn't--

"No, no, Hermione. I know you think it's Witch Weekly material, but Father likes Blaise too. He just thinks that I should end up with Draco because he wants Millicent to end up with Blaise. A resident matchmaker, if I may say." Pansy finished.

"Oh."

"Go with him? Please?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure."

"That's good..." Pansy trailed off. That's very good, indeed. Hermione didn't need to know that some of it was just weaved to... Fit her and Blaise's evil little ploy. "Let's apparate to Madame Malkin's after this."

"M'kay."

Once Hermione went back to her little world, the Slytherin girl's smile turned into a malicious grin. Hermione didn't need to know that her Father wasn't a resident matchmaker, or that she didn't drop Blaise like a hot potato (well, in front of Draco, that is), and that she was very sure that evil, ickle Drakkie-poo would be very, very vexed when he finds out about her very interesting fabrication of the story.

------------------------

His eyes widened at the person sitting on the wingback chair.

The other person seated on the chair gave a deep, condescending chuckle. "Or should I say Mr. Malfoy?" The other person stood up to his full height, albeit still a bit short compared to Draco's towering built.

"Father!" Draco smiled, a genuine one, before walking rather faster towards the man to give him a hug.

Lucius stiffened considerably before he returned the gesture of affection silently, tightening his arms around his son a bit before releasing him and patting him on the shoulder. "I see you haven't changed, Draco. Still the cunning, dashing, handsome and emotional trash of an heir you always were." He smiled at his son kindly.

Draco shook his head. "I am, Father, much to your chagrin. But it's been a long time."

Lucius crossed the room, the echoes of his ever-present cane tapping on the carpeted floor giving Draco a comforting feeling. He then opened a drawer and brought out a bottle of white wine and two goblets. "Drink with me." He poured some wine into the glasses and plopped down the upholstered chair gracefully, like only Malfoys could do.

He walked towards his father, accepting the proffered goblet, before sitting across him on the settee. He sipped on his drink a little, before setting it down on the polished table. "How long have you been... Out?" Draco ended rather pathetically, still comprehending the events happening in front of him. He didn't want to give his father an impression that he was thinking of him as a lunatic on a straight jacket placed under a mediwitch's guidance, but... It wasn't something he expected! "Has Mother seen you?"

"Ah," Lucius began in his usual distant voice. "A few weeks ago, before Christmas. I spent the holidays with the elder Zabinis and Parkinsons together with your Mother in Moscow." He smirked at his son.

Draco gaped (yes, Draco Malfoy can gape!) at his Father, totally forgetting that it was his perfectionist parent in front of him. "You've been out since... Why didn't...?"

Lucius sipped confidently on his wine. "Your Mother insisted for you not to meet me yet, albeit the atrocity in that crazy twat's idea, but I'm here. And you might want to close that," he gestured his goblet with his hand towards Draco's slack jaw, "you're putting your parents' teaching skills into shame."

Draco flinched at the tone of his voice, yet he knew that there wasn't any form of malice on it. It was just a reflex action, one he used to do whenever he shouted hexes at him before.

A few minutes later, Lucius brought down his goblet and tucked his hands together on the table in a business-like manner. "You've brought a great deal of change in the Wizarding Business World. I never thought you could do so much in such a short time, Draco."

"I try," Draco averted his eyes slightly. He was a Malfoy, all right. But when it came to his Father staring down at him, he couldn't use his stare-down-at-the-enemy-and-show-them-who's-the-boss technique. "Is it good enough, though?" He always gave importance to his Father's opinion, because even at the unstable mind he had then, and the sky-high expectations he had of him, he was thinking clearly just like he had always been, even before the incident.

Draco brought his eyes to his Father's face, shivering involuntarily at the unpleasant grimace on his face, and almost felt like fainting when Lucius shook his head. "... No?" He mumbled faintly.

Lucius brought the butt of his tobacco down on the ashtray. "Hideous taste. Didn't you ever take time to throw this filth that has been sitting in your drawer for months?" He pointed at the pungent tobacco.

Draco almost felt his nostrils shatter at the smell the tobacco emanated, and he immediately cleaned the mess with his wand. "I apologize for my shortcoming, Father."

"Very well." Lucius waved his hand at him in dismissal, breathing slightly on his gloved palm and sniffing to see if the smell mingled with his breath, before he cleared his throat. And then, he whispered slightly, just above a puff of breath. "I'm proud of you, son."

Despite the undistinguishable volume, his words sounded as clear as a Death Eater's scream. Draco could almost see some dark clouds break open at the sky, and the bright sunlight happily streaming down on him. He never heard such a compliment from his proud father!

Lucius felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at watching his only child brighten up considerably. "Draco. I am fairly sure you know how I treat people who do great things that would be of the Malfoys' advantage."

Draco nodded dumbly, still too shocked to even utter a sound. His Father actually praised him! His Father, Lucius Malfoy! High, unwavering, hard-to-please Lucius Malfoy!

Draco struggled valiantly to suppress the goofy smile forming on his lips, trying to keep his Father from seeing it. He had worked his little arse off more than needed, and invested all of his blood and sweat -- and not to mention a few thousand galleons -- for what he so closely cherished now, and he sure as bloody hell wouldn't let any other person take advantage of the Malfoy businesses. Any outsider would definitely ruin his perfectly-carved sculpture... At that thought, an idea began to form in his head; and when he finally found his voice, he managed to speak his mind clearly. "Father... It's not that I doubt your word or anything, but I would like an honest answer from you..."

Lucius stayed silent, and a few moments later gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Taking this as a sign to continue, continue he did. "Father... Do you wish to go back to your position as the Head of all the Malfoy businesses?"

Lucius eyed his son for a long time, weighing his son's words. "Draco," he began. "... Even if I am one of the major stockholders of our companies, you have to be reminded that you are the head of the business now. And as the President, you should do what you think works for everyone's advantage."

At Lucius' words, Draco took a shuddering breath, still not used to the new and improved Lucius Malfoy sitting across from him. In his opinion, this decision is by far the most feasible course of action at the moment. "Father, you... I-I reckon it is time the company be handed back to its original owner." He smiled slightly. His Father is undoubtedly in good condition, so there really is no reason why he should just stay at the manor all day with his Mother... Well, unless they want to have a go at it in every part of the manor every two hours. He remembered clearly how they unabashedly told the Zabinis over dinner that their only heir was conceived underwater...

He shuddered visibly at that, the wine he just drank almost finding its way from his insides back up to his throat, and he felt like regurgitating his last meal. Ah, perish the thought!

His face brightening several degrees, Lucius beamed at Draco. Had Draco been sixteen, he wouldn't even spare a thinking moment to consider handing back the business. He knew, from the looks of the business and the news he has been hearing since his Mungo days, that Draco made a big difference in the Wizarding Market ever since he took it from Narcissa. Not that Narcissa didn't run the company well; his wife even handled the company well through the business crisis that the industry experienced after stupid, gullible, Cornelius pudgy Fudge's resignation, the Malfoy Group of Companies being the only corporation that survived the prolonged crisis unscathed. But it was in his son's term that the notable and splendid changes occurred. And obviously, he outgrew his whiny side.

His son had matured over the years, and however unsettling it is for him, he had Albus Dumbledore to thank for that... Him, those self-righteous members of the senile old coot's Army, and that blasted Order of the Phoenix, even if he absolutely loathed those lot whom he waved wands against. "Thank you, Draco." He intoned with much indifference. However, this would not do; it isn't that easy to transfer powers of authority from one person to another. "Are you certain this is the right decision?"

"I am, Father."

"All right." Lucius, though very willingly accepting authority over the assets again, still doubted if it was, indeed, the right decision. He stood up to walk over the huge window behind the desk.

Draco watched with interest as he saw his old Father in his office, looking as imperious as ever, illuminated by the bright and green-colored rays of the sun flitting from the glass-stained window. He was startled when Lucius turned abruptly to sit himself on the chair, before clearing his throat.

"Well, then. As the recently-appointed head of the Malfoy Group of Companies, Draco Malfoy, you're fired from being the President of this company." He drawled out imperviously.

Draco didn't know whether he should laugh at his Father at the irony of the situation or hex him into next month for not giving him an honorable (and graceful, that of which a Malfoy always deserved) exit. Well, Lucius is indeed his father, and long before he was born, he had always been like that, so it wasn't questionable. As he was fond of talking to himself at that moment, he almost didn't hear what Lucius said next.

"And as the new Head, I free Draco Malfoy from all the unpleasantries and inconveniences that his rash decision would later exhibit." Lucius smiled a smug one, just as the younger Malfoy's looked like. "Furthermore, said individual would go on an indefinite leave, only to come back when the new President sees a suitable place for him in this company."

Draco's eyes widened. "Father! I refuse to be not given any responsibility...!"

Lucius shook his head. "Draco, you're barely nineteen. You're fresh from Hogwarts. You're a Slytherin. Cunning and ambitious. Surely you have ambitions and plans for your life other than following my footsteps. I recall you taking interest in working for the Ministry." He spoke tightly, not allowing any room for his son to protest. "And besides," he continued, twiddling with the exquisite quill on his hands. "I take it you've been... Quite taken with a schoolmate, or so I have been told."

Schooling his face in a stoic mask, Draco replied. "Taken? I beg to differ."

"Tsk, tsk. Denial. Quite understandable. The disadvantages of being smitten, such hold emotions have over humans." Lucius pushed his fringe out of his eyes. "You are of legal age. I want you to do what you want, Draco. And make sure of that, because I know all about you and your mudblood."

Draco scowled. "She's not a mudblo--"

"Which leads me to believe and conclude on your rumored love affair." Lucius scoffed lightly.

"Whoever told you of such a disgusting news?"

"Someone reliable."

"Skeeter, I presume?"

Lucius' lips quirked. "No. Someone I've long trusted and have had confidence in. Bloody animagus could be easily squashed." He stared at him hard. He wasn't even surprised when his son equaled his condescending stare, and he regretted the fact that as a recently released patient, no magic could be performed for three weeks. Stupid Legilimency... His son was using it on him!

So instead of fabricating thoughts, he looked away and shifted through the folders on the desk. "I don't need to hear any more of your pathetic excuses. I still have a considerable amount of confidence, albeit very diminutive, in your decision-making skills."

Draco preened visibly, before heaving a breath of confidence. "Are you implying that I do what I want?"

Lucius made a grunting noise at him as he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "For a smart kid like you, you're quite slow. I told you before to desist reading that good-only-for-gossip Witch Weekly. It seemed to have rubbed off on you. Such low pick up is a disgrace to the Malfoys."

Draco bit the insides of his mouth so hard that he could almost taste blood on what he felt was a bruised part of it. He needed to make sure he wasn't hearing things, although he seldom questioned his Father. Of course, he could always be wrong about it, but maybe… Just maybe… He heard him right. "W-What about… Hermione?"

"I don't like her." Lucius replied almost at once, and his eyebrows creased as he stared at the folder atop the table. "She's a mudblood. She's a know-it-all. She's a bushy-haired, buck-toothed bint. She had caused me disgrace seven years ago in Flourish and Blott's." Lucius scowled and his face went grim.

Draco clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth in annoyance. He never thought his description of Hermione Granger way back second year still remained in his Father's mind, and he never really thought he'd come to see Hermione Granger in a new light... And the Wizarding World as well, but still...

__

"Though if his grades don't pick up," he could well remember his Father respond icily back then in Mr. Borgin's store, when he stupidly expressed desire to have that bloody Hand of Glory that worked well for thieves that his Father described as most definitely way lower than the most dishonoring Malfoy ever,_ "that may indeed be all he is fit for --"_

__

"It's not my fault," he retorted then, feeling very offended. _"The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger --"_

But his Father simply scolded him in front of the old storeowner who even spared a breadth in thinking he was to be a thief._ "I would have thought that you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam..."_

That comment made him most bitter about everything, as if he never did anything right and favorable.

"Receiving two OWLs more than you and --" continued Lucius.

Okay, so he always did terrible things in front of those malicious and judgmental "Harry-Potter-the-Golden-Boy-and-his-groupies-are-our-heroes-and-defenders-of-justice" groveling kind of people, but really, was he that bad?

"... Appointed to work beside you as the Head Girl--"

Oh, and wasn't he that disgrace of the Malfoy clan?

"... And inadvertently stole what rightly belonged to our family for ever since Hogwarts' foundation."

Draco was shaken out of his stupor when the deep voice of his Father penetrated his thoughts.

"And to wrap it all up, she is Harry Potter's best friend." Lucius' nose twitched in annoyance, the mere mention of Draco's arch-nemesis seemingly revolting to him.

What Draco imagined as thick clouds that began parting to let the rays of the sun grace him and shine on his dark life began to cloud drastically.

"But given the implications of this non-negotiable quandary my foolish son jumped into..." Lucius' gaze remained fixed on the papers, but he looked up for a split second at his son through his cumbersome bangs, shielding his eyes from him. "... I just might."

For a few moments there was but silence in the air, where Lucius surreptitiously glanced at his stupefied son and gauged his reaction. Judging by that, it was a shocking and hard-to-digest information. Pulling on an annoyed façade, he craned his neck to see his son while sifting through the papers, his reading glasses falling off slightly. With an indignant tone, he drawled out. "Well, what are you waiting for, the tedious resurrection of that lame excuse of a Dark Lord? Get your lazy arse out my office and go about with your unfinished business!" He boomed harshly, before simmering into an imperious threat. "I don't settle for anything less, Dragon. And you won't be back in this company unless you've settled all your extra-curricular activities."

Cold gray eyes bore through mercury-silver ones.

Draco stood there for a few seconds before nodding slightly at his father. "A-All right. I'll be off, Father." He turned to walk out of the office.

After closing the door behind him, Draco felt very cold. That was the most memorable conversation he ever had with his father. It was difficult to take in all at once, considering it was the first time his father uttered something that made his heart almost burst out of joy. For years, he'd been waiting for his father to show him of his approbation on his chosen decision -- a nod of approval or a snort disguised as an affirmation would have been bearable, but what came was rather much better -- his father actually complimented him, told him he was proud of him, and told him straight and in person at that!

It felt good; and he suddenly felt a surge of energy in him, his nerves silently shouting: _"Eat my dust, Potter! I have a Father. A Father who just told me how great I was."_

He wanted to taunt Potter and see how his I'm-a-hero-the-baby-who-thwarted-a-pathetic-excuse-of-a-Dark-Lord demeanor crumble into the ground with jealousy, but over the years, he had come to have at least a little (just a teeny bit) degree of respect for the Golden Boy. How it happened he didn't know; only that it occurred when the greatest war in their time commenced, and that it was mainly due to the fact that he began to understand Potter's unexplainable outbursts in Fifth year. But that doesn't erase their animosity totally.

He kept the semi-evil thoughts he had momentarily, and focused instead on what to do with his free time, now that his Father practically kicked him out of the office and forced him to an indefinite leave. After all, he would only have the Yearend Ball to worry about. His Father and Mother would be representing the Malfoys, and he was sure his Mother would only coax him to attend that bloody Ball and reprimand him endlessly about it if he didn't turn up. And besides, he couldn't back out on Pansy. And he has to make sure Blaise wouldn't make a fool of himself that night. He wasn't going to attend that blasted Ball because of Hermione, really. He was just ::forced:: to attend to see to it that Blaise wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of Hermione, not to see her, because Blaise needs to be guided so as not to shame himself in Hermione's midst. He was ::so:: not going there to see her.

So much was his reasoning clouded by emotions that he never realized he was rationalizing too much, and that he had been reasoning and thinking things repeatedly about Blaise and Hermione.

His heart clenched involuntarily. Blaise and Hermione... Ah, he really didn't know what to associate with it; but he had a vague notion about it, and he absolutely begged to differ that it had something to do with an eight-letter word that starts with 'j.'

Maybe around amusement or sommat. Or apoplexy. Whatever.

Draco walked towards the doors of the lift as it swung open, and he stepped into it rather brusquely. He figured a visit to Hogsmeade and a bottomless mug of firewhiskey was in order.

------------------------

"Pansy!" Hermione called her companion as she glanced at herself from the mirror. "I think it's too tight..."

Pansy, who was busy looking at the other dress robes, pulled three more from the rack and brought it with her as she stepped up to Hermione. "Too tight, you say?" She looked her over. "Turn around." She gestured, and Hermione complied. "Nonsense, Hermione. It's just the right fit. Now go remove that dress and try these three on." She pushed the Gryffindor into the fitting room again, this time with three more bulky dress robes to try on.

"But Pans--" Hermione tried to protest, but Madame Malkin herself appeared to be agreeing with Pansy.

"Dear, the robes are spectacular, but I'm pretty sure there's a specific dress that would fit you perfectly. Now, try those on and I'll look for others." Madame Malkin, the storeowner, disappeared into another aisle.

"Yeah. Go on!" Pansy pulled the curtains close.

Sighing, Hermione extricated herself from the heavy clothing and began to fit the robes Pansy handed her.

Seeing Hermione preoccupied with fitting dress robes, Pansy stepped out from the dress chambers and into the front of the store as stealthily as possible. Reaching the more-lighted portion of the shop, she rolled her eyes at the sight that greeted her. "I thought you're ending all ties you have with her. What ever in Merlin's name are you doing here then?" cried Pansy mockingly as she stood leaning on the alcove opening that led to the dress chambers with her arms crossed.

"I just happened to pass by the shop, and I could not help but notice that my dearest childhood friend is here. I just thought I should drop by." The figure sitting on one of the upholstered chairs facing the fireplace stood up to face Pansy before giving her a wry smile. "You don't mind that, do you?"

Pansy shrugged. "The shop's not mine, so I have absolutely no right to forbid you." She walked towards the other person and grinned. "I'm guessing you're wandering around again? Merlin's beard, I am terribly awed by your extraordinary talent of running a company by just sauntering about."

"I'll have you know," he retorted, "that as of eleven thirty-nine this morning, I was fired from my position by my Father."

"Fired? By Uncle Lucius? What a pity." Pansy gave Draco a buss on the cheek. "And now you're back to being a slack, boring and good-for-nothing poncy git. Shame." She shook her head.

"You knew, yet you didn't tell me." Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm deeply hurt."

"What can I say? You never inherited Aunt Narcissa's conniving nature. Blaise and I were simply captivated."

"And I see Blaise did too. And here I thought I was of importance to you." Draco scowled.

"There, there." She placed her hand on his shoulder and began to pat him like a child. "Say Draco, would you be a dear and do me a favor?"

Draco's scowled couldn't have been more grim. "What?"

"Kindly sod off now, so I could help my ever-lovely friend, Hermione, to get some robes for the Yearend Ball." Pansy pushed him towards the door. "I'm quite sure you're practically ::dying:: to see her dress robes, but I suggest you disappear from my sight because I might change my mind about being a very nice childhood friend to you and--"

"Pansy... I think it's too revealing... And too tight..." Came a voice from just a few yards in the room.

Draco perked up considerably. "Too tight? Revealing?" He took a step towards the changing room.

Pansy smiled slightly as she stopped the tall figure from his intentions.

"Must... See..." Draco murmured, as if in a trance, as he struggled to break free of Pansy's unbelievably strong grasp.

Pansy could practically see the thoughts running through Draco's head. Honestly, could hormones be more compelling? And besides, has he not ::seen:: every inch of Hermione's body already? Or could he just not get enough of it?

"Dray... Dray... Draco!" Pansy snapped her fingers for quite a number of times in front of him, trying to remove him from his untimely daze.

"... Whipped cream?"

"Ugh!" Pansy groaned. "Dray! Draco! Draco!" She slapped his face lightly. She almost heaved a sigh of relief when Draco shook his head, but the sound of footsteps getting louder by the second reminded her of her predicament. "Draco! See what I mean?" She pushed Draco out of the door. "Now there's no need for hormonal gits to be hanging around while I help my friend choose dress robes, so off you go! Bye bye!"

Draco stumbled out of the door and glared at Pansy. "You silly bint. You'll pay for this dearly!"

"No I won't! You still owe me a lot! Bye bye Drakkie-poo!!!" She called out, effectively making Draco flinch and walk away faster than usual. She just knew how to tick him off.

"Pansy, where are you?"

A set of footsteps walked around the other side of the store and towards the glass display window; immediately, Pansy pulled Hermione away from it. She couldn't risk having Draco see her; he'll have to die of anticipation first. "I-I-I'm here, Hermione!"

"There you are! Who was that you were talking to a while ago?"

"Uh..." _'Think, Pansy, think!'_ "The, uh, chauffeur! Yes, the chauffeur!" Pansy smiled rather funnily, gesturing wildly. "H-he said he was just going to look for a... Gift! Yes, a gift! A... A b-birthday gift for his, uh, uhm... Son at the, uh..." She trailed off, her eyes scanning the street for a signboard. "Quality Quidditch Supplies! Yes, y-y-you know, quidditch and boys." She rolled her eyes in mock indignation. "Anyways, you were saying?"

"Oh, right. You see Pansy, I think this--"

"For the fifth time, Hermione, it's not too tight. It fits you just perfectly! And its not revealing, you're just not used to short articles of clothing! I remember seeing you in your flat in that yellow dress... Now have you tried the green one?" Pansy steered her into the chambers and out of Draco's possibly still lurking around sight, smiling extra sweetly, yet heaving huge sighs of relief deep inside. But at the back of her mind, she snickered at the thought that Draco was, once again, defying his own bloody promises. It hasn't even been a week since he made that supposedly firm promise, and a promise sworn in the name of Salazar Slytherin at that! The old chap must be rolling in his grave in revulsion right now...

------------------------

The fifth glass of firewhiskey failed to serve Draco drunkenness. Ever since Pansy's rude shoving of him from that shop, he wandered about aimlessly around Diagon Alley, glancing around with a huge amount of disinterest painted on his features. For all his futile efforts of sorting himself, he ended up in Knockturn Alley and had the sudden urge to get himself drunk.

Failing in his mission, he paid for his drink, gave a huge amount of tip, stopped and winked arrogantly at the girl who was practically drooling at the sight of him before heading out of the dingy pub.

He walked out of the shop and headed to Quality Quidditch Supplies, intent on looking at the newest edition of the famous Firebolt XX. He may be busy with business and all that, but he still held fascination over the brooms and snitches that fly about. In fact, he could very well consider playing for the English Team if he didn't have anything to do (though he knew that was highly unlikely) after graduating.

Draco suddenly missed the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, the elusive snitch, the blasted bludger that hit him square on the ribs on his sixth year (courtesy of that blasted Gryffindor beater who, up to now he still didn't know the name), the dank dungeons, the restricted section of the library, the Potions classroom, and so with the Arithmancy, Transfiguration and Occlumency classrooms, the greenhouses, the lake, the phantoms and the paintings, bullying the first years, his petty fights with Potty and the Weasel... Heck, he was even starting to miss the old croon and his bloody twinkling eyes!

Silently reprimanding himself for his softness, he pushed the door to Quality Quidditch Supplies rather roughly, the bells clanging against each other so loud that most of the customers turned their heads to look at him. One of his barely noticeable eyebrows shot up slowly, his eyes darted around confidently, and obviously undeterred, he walked towards the brooms section.

While marveling at the shiny broomstick on display, a blur of brown and yellow passed by the window, and he suddenly had the instinct to look up. He was surprised, to say the least, but not so surprised, when he saw that it was Pansy and Hermione. He knew that girls love shopping, and a first-hand experience with Pansy whining about the dress she couldn't buy way back fourth year made him learn not to offer to accompany girls while they went shopping. But he admired Pansy for being so patient and virtuous when it came to that; she practically raked the whole of Hogsmeade that weekend without even stopping for a drink!

The next thing Draco knew, he was walking down the street, leaving the fantastic broomstick behind, his coach following him, and him hiding behind the lampposts and trailing them. He justified that as to making sure they got home safely.

When they got on Pansy's carriage, he jumped into his as well, and followed the other carriage, a short distance behind them. He already knew where they were heading, for the angel of winter that stood in the middle of a now-frozen fountain came into view; and he was glad that they were indeed heading for home, because it was already seven in the evening. Their carriage slowed, and he told his coachman to slow down as well and go into hiding. It stopped in front of Hermione's flat and dropped Hermione off, before turning back and skidding away into the night.

His coachman steered the horse to follow the carriage, and Draco suddenly felt reluctant to leave. He already told himself that he was going to stay away from her; forget that something akin to a relationship transpired the few weeks that they saw each other. He wanted to settle his feelings, his thoughts, mend (or end, in a certain brunette's case) his relationships with those around him -- everything -- so that he could go back to work. But half of his system wasn't cooperating at all.

Sighing audibly, he drew the curtains of his coach and poked his head out, glancing at the circular fountain behind him. Why did he suddenly feel like he was leaving a part of him behind?

"Stop the carriage." He commanded. The vehicle halted, and Draco jumped out of the warmth of the vehicle and into the dark, cold and snowy night, walking briskly back to where it all began. _'This will be the last time, Malfoy,'_ he told himself, as he headed to the low gate with the number 14 in intricate brass lettering on it.

------------------------

From her carriage, Pansy grinned devilishly as she passed by Draco's personal coach. _'Of course, Draco's stubborn side always wins the game_,' she twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers and reclined further in the plush seat. Blaise and she would have a fairly good time laughing at Draco's antics; he couldn't even keep a promise to save his arse!

The mental picture projected by her imagination of her and Blaise trotting over to Draco while laughing hysterically at his foolishness made her laugh. Boy, would Draco be furious at them! But really, it was his fault that he always broke such promises. Or was he just born under an unlucky star?

Pansy shook her head in resignation. Draco Malfoy will always be Draco Malfoy; there really is nothing she or Blaise could do to change him. She could only pray that Hermione wouldn't push him away this time like she did many times before.

------------------------

After giving her heartfelt and sincere thanks to Pansy and her coachman and waving her goodbyes at them, Hermione began the gruesome task of unlocking the sealing contraptions on her door. A few minutes later she got in, plucked her gloves out of her hands, untied the laces of her boots and removed it, and shrugged off her outer robes and hung it on the coats hanger. Afterwards she walked towards the fireplace, started a fire in the furnace and fed Hedwig and Crookshanks.

She climbed up the stairs, flicked the light switch open and dropped her purse on the table beside her bed. She expected a sound of clattering, or of the metal clasp of her purse hitting the glass surface, but when a muffled sound came, she frowned and drew out her wand before noticing a rolled up magazine on the bedside table. Hermione replaced her wand on the table, picked up the magazine and recognized it as last week's issue of Witch Weekly; Cho Chang and Penelope Clearwater graced the cover as they stood vis-à-vis on the snow-covered ground dressed as Babushka, the Russian female Father Christmas, with a broomstick on each hand (she could tell it was Nimbus 2020) and whose ends crossed just behind them. Cho had her black-brown hair sleek and shiny falling behind her, while Penelope's curls looked bouncy on her shoulders.

She couldn't help but smile at the two senior Ravenclaws, both Head Girls of their years and achievers. To top it all off, they were among the most beautiful faces in Wizarding London. _'They're so beautiful...'_ She sighed, and an unexpected twinge suddenly sprung from her heart; she could feel a spark of envy spreading like a virus in it. She didn't want to feel this way, she was happy for them, really! All she thought was that they were lucky because--

"Green monster eating you?"

Hermione gasped and jumped slightly from her place at the edge of the bed, accidentally dropping the magazine on the floor. Her gaze flickered to the full-length mirror across her, and from her angle, she saw a figure leaning on the door. She couldn't be mistaken -- those cold silver eyes, the startling platinum fringe, the almost-luminous skin...

"Did my use of suspense make you jump? Probably yes; I'm a Slytherin, after all."

"M-Malfoy!" She choked out, as if running out of breath. How in the bloody hell did he manage to get in? When did he get in? And why is he here?

"Back to last name basis, are we? And here I thought you liked my name so much." Draco grinned from his place as he looked around Hermione's bedroom, the things and objects, the corners, nooks and crannies, the atmosphere... Everything reeked of the know-it-all Hermione Granger. "I remember the last time you said it, you were crying out my name. And where the hell are your ::amazing:: Auror skills? Did Potty and Weasel borrow them for their honeymoon?"

She fumed. He shouldn't speak about Harry and Ron that offhandedly! They may have been neglecting her lately, but... Hermione suddenly turned bright red, blushing to her roots. She couldn't deny that she did cry out his name several times, but it isn't like it was just she, he did the same. "I-I thought you're a busy man. I-I mean, you rushed out at once without me noticing at all." She unconsciously fiddled with the edge of the viridian comforter covering her bed.

Draco found the makeup kit on her dresser very out of place. For all the Hermione-ness of the room, the colorful plastic artifact that contained whatever muggle invention used to apply artificial glamour on a girl's face definitely reeked Pansy Parkinson to him. Had Pansy been in her room? Or was this Pansy's Christmas gift? Crossing the room towards the dresser, he picked up the offending box and placed it on the floor before pushing it under the bed using his feet. "I'll have you know that my Father is back. He manages the company once again."

She stood up from the bed, eyeing Draco carefully moving on the other side of the room using the mirror. "L-L-Lucius Malfoy? Out of St. Mungo's? T-T-That's good to hear..." She cleared her throat. "Though I'm quite sure I know the implications of his return, i-is it right to assume that you were demoted?"

"That, and on forced leave, my darling little mud-er-muggle-born." He faced her in the mirror, eyes piercing through hers. "Care to give me a tour of your flat?"

She scowled in return. "That's not what you came here for."

"Really?" He shot back, exaggerating the opening of his mouth. "Then," he knit his eyebrows in mock consternation, "what did I come here for?"

Hermione stood silently, finding the fallen magazine suddenly interesting. With a shrug, she bent down to pick up the magazine. "I don't know..."

"Oh?!" His other eyebrow went up as he stifled a laugh. "Wait, wait... Do you have that silly muggle item that makes you hear another person from a distance? Just like Wizarding Wireless or something... What's that called, a mobile scone, or tome?"

"Mobile phone... A mobile phone..." She trailed off, before turning back her attention to him. "What ever does his powerful and pureblood highness need a filthy, lowly, plain and mudblood article for?"

Draco flashed a cocky grin. "Granger, I think I really need to call all the Wizarding press for this! I could see the headline now... 'Boy-Who-Lived-to-Rescue-the-World-From-the-Clutches-of-Evil's Know-it-all best friend Admits Being Stumped'... I'll have to let them know as soon as possible." His cocky grin turned into a knowing smirk.

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy!"

"My, such use of colorful language... I'll have to keep that in mind for the Prophet, Granger. Imagine... What would they say? Their holier-than-thou Gryffindor princess swearing?"

Hermione's grip on the magazine tightened. "What do you want?"

"The question is," he drawled out in his usual manner. "What do ::you:: want?"

Hermione could see her fingers digging deeper on the helpless magazine. What is Malfoy doing, talking in circles again? _'He's confusing me all over again. I'm not going to allow him to do it.' _"If you're here to blackmail me about... About my parents, then you're not going to succeed." She lifted her gaze to look at him, and she was startled when she saw Draco standing directly behind her, eyes smoldering with such intensity that it scared her.

"Blackmail, you say?" Draco placed both his hands on her shoulder. "Granger, you think so low of me." He whispered to her ear.

She felt angry with herself for liking the feelings he was giving her. She tried to turn it into revulsion, but her stubborn senses responded in another manner. She felt a cold shiver run through her body as she stared at him at the mirror. The sodding git was smirking like there was no tomorrow! "Low? What do you expect?"

Draco shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, honestly. And you?"

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed in resignation. "Look, Draco. I don't know what you came here for, but... Please, just--"

Her eyes flew open and saw Draco's silver eyes, piercing and domineering, staring at her while he placed a tender kiss on her neck.

His hands crept from his side to her hips to circle her body and secure her there, while his mouth trailed butterfly kisses along her jaw up, all the while inhaling her scent. In his mind, Draco fought the urge to throw her on her bed and shag her senseless; he couldn't just do that. He may know his own charms, but definitely, he wouldn't stoop as low as to commit rape or coercion.

"... You silly, beautiful girl..." Draco whispered against her skin.

Unbeknownst to him, Hermione was fighting an inner struggle too. She could feel her hormones raging silently in her body and her desire slowly overpowering her rational thinking, but she found herself unable to move. She was unsure of what to do, and she knew the consequences of whatever her decision would be.

There were always two ways to deal with a situation -- the easy way, and the hard way. The easy way would be to give in to what her senses were screaming -- to lift her hands, touch his pristine skin, tangle her fingers through his platinum locks and succumb to his irresistible charms for the second time; to hold him and cling to him like he was her lifeline. All she had to do was to give in.

"... Why do you always make things harder...?" She felt his lips touch her cheek with each syllable he said, his hot breath caressing her cheek.

But Hermione knew that there would be much to pay after that. There's Harry and Ron, Ginny, Neville, Lavender and Parvati, the Weasleys, the other Gryffindors, her parents, everyone else... They would most likely react violently (or in Ron's case, curse and throw a fit and whinge unnecessarily), or worse, disown her (in the case of the Gryffindors). They wouldn't be too pleased with her actions. She could almost hear their reactions now, how their rational, levelheaded and always in control Head Girl suddenly became a careless, irrational and impulsive teenager. She would let them all down once she chose the easy way out.

... But then, does she always have to consider what ::they:: think of her? Was it always their happiness first, their expectations to meet, their reactions to gauge? Can't she just, for once, follow what her body is dictating, which, in this case, is to succumb to Malfoy's touch?

Hermione felt nimble fingers pushing the neckline of her blouse aside, and hot breath graze her skin. And then she saw Draco watching her intently from the mirror, and she found it unnerving that his eyes held such confidence that reflected control over his life.

Draco's hands dove under the fabric of her clothing, skimming her belly and the small of her back, then trailing up her torso agonizingly slow, enjoying the feel of her creamy skin beneath his palms. He watched her as she fought an inner battle, and he could tell she was having a hard time in choosing. He settled for just waiting for a reaction from her -- a shove, a slap, a moan or a simple arching of her body to his hands. He couldn't just go on doing this without her consent; that would be coercion. Maybe pushing the line a little bit more would do the trick...

Draco latched onto her ear and began alternately nibbling and licking the sensitive skin below it; his right hand brushed at the underside of her mounds while the other hovered dangerously at the waistband of her skirt and tugged gently on it. He then felt Hermione lift her arms and place her hands on top of his. This made him stop nibbling at her ear and focus his gaze on hers; she was staring at him squarely from the mirror.

Hermione valiantly held his gaze as she placed her hands on where his were, and with an audacity she didn't know she possessed, used it to press his hands and dig his fingers into her skin, urging him to go further.

He then bent his head to kiss her fully on the lips, while his hands roamed her body with barely suppressed control. Her hands led his to the zipper of her skirt and the cup of her brassiere before releasing it to settle on running her fingers through his soft hair and pulling him closer. He opened his mouth, licked her lips using his tongue before parting them open and plunging into her dark caverns. He felt, rather than heard, Hermione moan in satisfaction and he couldn't help but smile against her lips.

He used his probing tongue to lift that identical part in her and coaxed her to participate and explore in return, and was glad when they clashed and fought for dominance. His right thumb and forefinger pulled at her nipple slightly and tweaked it repeatedly, causing her to arch her body towards his palms. His other hand successfully dove into her knickers and inexpertly slipped a finger into her hot core.

Hermione pulled away from their lip lock with a gasp, surprised at the sudden intrusion at the juncture of her thighs. From the mirror, she could still see Draco gazing at her, silver eyes penetrating and smoldering, and her toes curled when she felt a second finger being inserted into her body. "Oh, Merlin...!" She cried out when his thumb brushed her most sensitive spot, and she bucked her hips against his fingers' movements, sending his fingers deeper into her opening.

Draco began to flick his thumb against the extra-sensitive flesh quicker and thrust his fingers faster and deeper, all the while enjoying the grunts of satisfaction he elicited from her. He watched her reaction from the mirror, and admired how her face turned up in ecstasy. He never really got the chance to see her face whenever she was aroused, and he marveled at her beauty. Her eyelids fluttered sexily, staring at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips parted, sweat trickling down her temples deliciously, skin glistening with perspiration and all the while struggling and screaming out silently.

"Ahh... Draco, Draco... Oh gods, oh gods..." She gasped out as she felt her walls tighten around his fingers, and she gripped unto his neck tighter to buck her hips harder against him. She couldn't control herself anymore; heat began to spread throughout her body. "P-Please, D-Draco..." She breathed out rather airily, pleading for him to increase his pace.

"Please what?" She became aware of the air just at the back of her ears.

"Draco, m-make me... Oooooooohh!" He felt his chest rumble from her back, something she thought that was a grunt in response, paired with heated actions as he paid heed to her request. Lips forming a perfect 'o,' Hermione began to tremble as she moved with increasing pace and rougher movements against his hand. She could feel Draco's fingers pumping in and out of her rapidly; faster and faster he drove, his thumb brushing against her at the same speed as his fingers entered and slipped out of her. She could feel her control slipping away, she could feel it, her release...

"HERMIONE!!!"

"Harry!" She managed to break through her catatonic bliss, jerked out of her near-heaven experience and blinked twice, eyes darting quickly around the room before extricating her body from Draco's grasp. Everything looked and felt clearer now that the stars in front of her eyes dimmed drastically.

Draco was stunned, to say the least. "Wha... What?" Was it really that, that... Easy to get over the ecstasy...?

Hermione looked around and began fixing her dress. "Draco... Harry, he's..." She pushed him in the general direction of the dresser, intent on shielding him from the impending havoc one of her friends would surely wreak once they caught sight of him, all the while refastening her barrettes and straightening her robes in a futile attempt to right herself before running out of the room.

"... Harry?" Draco stood rooted to the spot as he listened to Hermione's footsteps eerily echoing throughout her flat; he didn't know what brought about that... That... Her sudden outburst...

With a feral growl, Draco ran his right hand through his disheveled locks and seethed silently. _'Damn you, Potter! Damn you to the fucking Hell!'_

------------------------

"Harry? Ron?" Hermione shouted as she leaned over the ledge of the stairs, anticipation filling her. She didn't expect them to be back at such short notice! They didn't even write her to inform her about it!

She flew down the stairs hurriedly, jumping the last three or so steps at the bottom, and dashed towards her kitchen. Whenever they arrived in her flat, they would always head to the kitchen and rummage through her pastry cabinet... Well, Ron does, and Harry just kind of follows him to make sure he doesn't make a mess of her kitchen...

Hermione stopped when she reached the doorframe, expecting to see Ron's mouth stuffed with numerous chocolate frogs he acquired from his raid from her candy jar and Harry's sheepish grin while holding a choice or two of sweets, but all she saw was the memorandum pinned on her fridge about the Yearend Ball, glaring ominously at her." "Harry? Ron?" She called out again, but her voice only echoed throughout her flat. "Where are you...? I thought..."

Pulling a stool towards her bar, Hermione plopped down ungracefully, placed her arms on the counter, rested her forehead on it before banging her head on her folded arms. But of course, Ron and Harry were supposed to be in Würzburg and wouldn't be back for a month, what was she thinking? She propped her chin on her forearm and pouted in indignation. That Harry and Ron would be back within a month when they have made it clear that they wouldn't is a very foolish thing indeed. She reached out and plucked a printed paper towel from the holder and began fiddling with it, like she always did to pass time, folding it this way and that, 'Wingardium Leviosa'ing the tissue paper until she made a number of paper cranes floating about on and near the counter.

Hermione plucked a paper crane and examined it closely before she felt a laugh rise up from her chest. She chuckled lightly and humorlessly. "Hah... I can't believe it, I'm hearing things..." She shook her head, trying to clear her fogged mind. She couldn't really think of an explanation about what happened; all she knew was that she was up in her bedroom, standing in front of the mirror, thoughts about everyone milling about in her mind violently as Malfoy's fingers drove on and on...

She gasped; she totally forgot about him!

"Draco! Oh Merlin, I can't believe it, I totally forgot about him!" Hermione jumped from her seat and began ascending the stairs, taking two steps at a time. "Draco...!" Called Hermione from the hallway. Her footsteps echoed loudly at the silence of the night, and it didn't help that it made her feel much more in solitude. She reached her door and turned the doorknob open.

"Draco!" She cried out breathlessly. "I'm so sorry! I just thought Harry arrived... Draco?"

Hermione blinked rapidly, taking in the current state of her room. She could still remember clearly where he stood just a while ago, while she allowed her body do the thinking for her, but now all that remained was his smell of winter breeze mixed with lemons and his musky and expensive perfume lingering in the empty bedroom.

"Draco..." She whispered into the room, finally realizing her mistake. She shouldn't have been thinking about Harry, Ron, or anyone else at that moment; only the two of them should have mattered. How she wished she had taken Neville's word of advice; that she should stop doing a gazillion things at once. Now she could see the consequences clearly right in front of her eye, mocking her without abandon.

She walked towards the looking glass and traced the wooden frame with the edge of her fingers, stared at her reflection before closing her eyes and heaving a sigh. _'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' _She thought as she left the full-length mirror and threw her body on her queen-sized four-poster face-first.

Hermione felt the loneliness and solitude engulf her in a tight, saturated embrace as she thought of Draco, of her falling friendship with Harry and Ron, and her constant solo non-existence to everyone's euphoria induced by the Boy-Who-Lived. Because instead of trying to make a sound decision in choosing who to maintain closest to her heart, she felt that she lost all of them.

"Ron, Harry... Draco... I'm so sorry...." Tears began to seep through her plump pillows as she cried, for the first time in her life, for herself and no one else.

------------------------

»Some Additional Notes«

Firebolt XX and Nimbus 2020 - pathetic attempts at naming non-living things that fascinate me. It was brought about by a strange fixation on what Muggles would gladly refer to as Wrestling, that even if it was staged and all, I still couldn't resist watching all those Incredible Hulk wannabes get it on and go pound each other into staged smithereens that sometimes result to real nasty injuries, or to some extent, death. (God Bless Owen Hart) As much as a diabolical creature I am, I still hate seeing someone die... I just like seeing them slamming against each other and fighting for a stupid piece of gleaming tin on a leather strap or something. So to be specific, I named it after WWE's immortal Wrestlemania XX. As to the Nimbus, obviously it's from Sealab 2020. I just couldn't find a number to place there, haha. Please excuse those lame attempts, J.K. Rowling, and find it in your kind heart to forgive me for my shortcoming. I could now imagine you tutting and shaking your head in disapproval, muttering 'Poor broomsticks...'

A/N: Sorry again for that lame attempt at smut. I'm not good in that, I swear...!

Sw33tdohtee – 'I can really see this happening after their year at Hogwarts.' Damn right it ::should:: be happening… Oh well, fanfics are the realms of the impossible, so I won't be forcing JKR to change her story anymore… Bittersweet? Awww, you're soooo sweet! ::grins stupidly:: No, really, I mean it! Your review just made my day! D And yep, I took your advice on the anonymous reviewers… Man, I thought I already unchecked that horrid box, but, oh well… Maybe I overlooked that one. Heh. Speechless? Was I really that… stumping? Thanks for that wonderful review, by the way.

HogwartsBoizRHootiez – I agree with your pseudo! ::glomps Draco plushie:: Plain amazing? Thanks for the heartwarming compliment! I appreciate it, honestly! And thanks for taking time to review!

Shikiburei – Watashi wa anime otaku desu! Ano ne, shikiburei-san mo anime otaku desu ka?! Hehe, gomen ne… ::sweatdrops:: I think it's pretty obvious… An anime fan, a j-rock/k-pop fan and a Harry Potter fan—er, Draco Malfoy fan, all in one package! Anata mo desu ka? Yes, it's mushy, and sappy, but I really tried my best not to be mushy in a negative way… D I also loved the Drawing Room and Narcissa here… Honestly the 'history repeats' was just an afterthought, and I'm glad I did it! You liked it! Thankies! Domo Arigatou Gozaimasu!

Kace08 – Yes, Draco is hostile… But we love him anyways, right? RIGHT?... Er, sorry, did I scare you? That wasn't meant to be scary! Draco and Pansy and Blaise and Hermione… What say you if I decided to leave it that way? Hmmm… I'm betting you'll throw a fit and scream my head off… And I don't want to get my head bitten off, so… Whatchathink? ::grins::

Spaceyksee – Aww, I'm touched by your words! It only goes to show that you really do appreciate my work! Thank you very, very, ::very:: much! Eep, no threats, please! I still plan to take up German and Latin!

Venus 725 – Oh I love the song too! Definitely one of my all-time favorites, I'd say. I think it touched most of the hearts of the listeners of the song. And Maroon 5 is a really cool group, and aside from "She Will Be Loved" I especially liked "Sunday Morning" and "Harder to Breathe." Draco's an idiot. Yes, yes, very sad but true… But not for long! Mwahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Sweetest Things – thanks for that review! I really appreciate it, promise! Little words of encouragement are what I feed on nowadays, did you know? ::smiles enigmatically:: That was meant as a joke, dearie… Thanks again!

LiLy MaLfOy13 – 'love your story it is really good' thank you! I try to give it my best, so thanks for noticing the efforts!

Jocelyn Padoga – You think the relationship is kinda rushed? Hmmm… I think I'm going to have to edit that… Or insert other scenes… Or at least flashbacks… Argh. But thanks for that, I think I'm having ideas for another fic!

DSMelody – this is really meant to be a one-shot, but unfortunately it evolved into a very lengthy work. I think for the most part it is dragging, considering there are waaay too long characterizations, but, oh I dunno… but still, having this much positive response from readers like you definitely encourage me to improve my skills. Thanks!

B-a-B-i – Yep, mothers really know their children well… And I'm glad I made Narcissa nice here, because I think that it really isn't in her nature to be bad, ne? Thanks again!

Princess JB – Nope, no need to be sorry at all! I was honestly very motivated by your… squeal? I dunno if I took it correctly as a squeal but nonetheless, it is something that spurred me to write even more! Thanks really!

LegallyBrunette2126 – here's a long chapter… And I think it's the longest so far. Hehehe. Unjustified? You think so? Hmmm…

Thanks also to those who read it without reviewing! I know I'm no in the position to be angry or miffed because you all don't review so just a huge thanks to those who read! But bigger thanks go to those who read AND reviewed! ::snigger snigger::

Next Chapter: Hogwarts, Head Girls and Prefects, discussions, mandrakes and a very… interesting… flash of lightning. You know what I mean. Oh, and let's not forget a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Hehehe.

It's one am, I've got make up classes on my Social Science class tomorrow at eight, and my insomnia's bugging the hell out of me again. So I'll try to sleep this off… I think this is the effect of too much coffee…

Comme Tojours!


	9. Beyond the Looking Glass

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com (this isn't meant to be a link, but still it screwed up…)

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me:grins sheepishly:

Oh, and another gomen because the fanfiction quickedit version 2 dot 3 isn't working so well that I think the chapter just screwed up the punctuation marks so... Sorry in advance.

-

_Bridge: Beyond the Looking Glass_

_I know where you hide alone in your car_

_Know all of the things that make you who you are_

_I know that goodbye means nothing at all_

_Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls_

_Tap on my window knock on my door_

_I want to make you feel beautiful..._

"Hermione!" Cried Ginny Weasley, current Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her small and almost indiscernible badge gleaming as bright as its owner's eyes did.

The previous year's Head Girl smiled in return. "Ginny!" Hermione half-walked, half-ran towards the redhead who was standing near the flight of stairs. She later found herself in the tight and welcoming embrace of the youngest Weasley. "How did you know that I was coming?" She asked as the ginger-head released her.

"Headmaster Dumbledore told me that a visitor was coming today and said I should wait for the visitor here at the Entrance Hall. When I asked him who's arriving, he said that I'd best be the one to welcome that visitor. I had a hunch who it was, and true enough, it's you." Ginny took her hand and began to pull her towards the kitchen. "Come, come! I'm sure your beloved house elves would be delighted to see you."

"Okay." Hermione beamed at her as she led her towards the kitchens.

-

"So, what's the latest?" Ginny enquired from across Hermione as they sat on one of the tables in the kitchens while helping the house elves, who were bustling about preparing the supper of the other students.

"Latest?" Hermione echoed. It's not like she was the talk of the town, really.

"Oh, you know. The 'uneventful things in my life,' to quote Hermione Granger." The younger girl smiled. "Harry said he was most remorseful for leaving you here. And about your parents..."

Hermione waved the stalk of parsley at her. "You know I don't have anything against the Ministry's decision. Harry and Ron are great wizards. And about my parents, well, your Father owled me, telling me they're getting better." Her mouth twitched uncontrollably. The truth was practically spilling from her lips!

"I'm glad to hear that." Ginny nodded as she sliced the potatoes. "By the way, how's Pansy? From your last owl, you told me you're going to meet her this past weekend in Hogsmeade."

"Pansy's doing great. We went to Hogsmeade as intended, and apparated to Diagon Alley. She also helped me choose my dress robes for the Yearend Ball."

"But I thought you weren't going to that Ball?"

"Ah, that." Hermione set aside the diced carrots as she grabbed some onions from the basket. "I'm going with Blaise. You do know him, right?"

"Zabini? Blaise Zabini, as in slimy, smarmy potential Salazar Slytherin in the next decade?" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione grinned slightly. "Ginny, Blaise isn't that bad when you get to know him. And besides, he wasn't involved in the War. The Zabinis were on neutral grounds."

"Hmmm... True..." Ginny nodded in approval. "But then... It's just that you've been hanging around frequently with Slytherins, Hermione. Pansy I'd understand, but Blaise...? Next to Malfoy, he has done a lot of terrible things to you! What's next, you're hitting it and going around London, shagging Malfoy?"

Hermione grew beet red at that remark. Ginevra Weasley is definitely too smart for her own good. "But Malfoy, well... He did help us in the War, didn't he? Why not put it past him, Ginny?"

Ginny eyed the older Gryffindor closely. Were her eyes deceiving her, or did Hermione just blush? And is it protect-the-Slytherins day? "Puh-leeze. It's not as if you kept Harry and Ron at bay with regards to Malfoy during Hogwarts, Hermione. I hope you're not going to take this against me, but why are you defending the two most despicable people that just made your Hogwarts stay miserable!"

"Really, Ginny. Blaise is not that bad. He even apologized when he came over at my flat for Christmas! You just have to know him better." Hermione reasoned. "And Pansy's dating him. Pansy wouldn't really choose him if he were that bad, now would she?"

Ginny snorted. "Pansy's got a twisted way of looking at things, Hermione. But not in a negative way, though. She fancies bad boys. Remember that romance novel I loaned her last year about two people who started out as enemies and became sex partners that eventually ended up together? The guy's stinking bad. He practically tormented the girl to no end every chance presented to him! Pansy kept on ranting at the Prefect's meeting about how the boys pick on the girls and stuff." She dropped her knife, stopped working and sighed dreamily. "But then again, I :do: like some bad guys."

Hermione felt like hexing Ginny, but thought better of it.

"But Harry still comes first." Ginny finished, beaming extra sunnily.

"Yeah... Right..." Hermione opted to stay adamant. "So, yeah. Blaise Zabini. Not a Death Eater, just a smarmy git who happened to be sorted into Slytherin. But he's not that different from Harry or Ron." She glanced up at Ginny, and inwardly sighed when she saw that she seemed content with her explanation. She just hoped she wouldn't prod on further...

"And Malfoy?"

_'Ugh.'_ Hermione cried out mentally. So much for that. "Malfoy, on the other hand... He's a member of the Order, need I say anything more?"

"Oh yeah. Right." The redhead yawned and stretched out her arms. "I'm sorry for asking too much, Hermione." She watched as her companion expertly chopped the onions into tiny tidbits. "It's just so difficult to believe at first, but I'm not closed off to inter-house relationships, especially between Slytherins and Gryffindors. And besides, it's not bloody likely that you're cavorting and rutting around with Malfoy."

"Ow!" Hermione's hand that held the knife suddenly slipped from chopping the onions and hit her thumb. She flinched as the blade of the knife sliced the skin at the top of her thumb. She immediately placed it in her mouth, sucking the blood coming out from the wound. Sometimes, Ginny could be so blunt.

"Oh my...!" Ginny exclaimed, and she hastily cast a healing spell on the small lesion. The wound healed and closed up and almost instantaneously, it vanished. "Are you all right?"

Hermione nodded slightly. "Y-Yeah... I-I'm okay."

Ginny wondered if Hermione thought her to be a slow person. Ever since her arrival, Ginny had noticed how Hermione often spaced out during their conversations, tended to be dismissive about things that ought to be given importance, and became all jittery when it came to Slytherins, especially a certain former Head Boy. She watched as Hermione settled back on chopping the onions; she noticed the older girl's movements became sloppy and the tidbits became chunks.

"Ginevra, Ronald told me that- Oh hi, Hermione!" A blonde head with a huge lion's hat poked into the kitchen doors.

"Luna! Come in, sit down. The house elves wouldn't mind." Ginny scooted and gave some space for her friend to sit on.

"Luna!" Hermione smiled at the Ravenclaw, who snagged the fiery ex-Gryffindor keeper.

Luna beamed happily at Hermione. "You look very lovely today, Hermione." She noted. "Life beyond Hogwarts seemed to be good to you. Something you ate? Or is there someone significant?"

Hermione shook her head profusely, her hair making a dizzying sight. "It must have been something I ate." She chuckled heartily, trying to cover up her blush.

"I see... Did you have strawberries and whipped cream lately? I reckon those foods do the trick. See, my Father once sent me a package with strawberries and whipped cream and I ate a huge serving of those before sleeping and the next day I saw Ronald staring at me like I was a candy in Honeydukes. Or a broomstick on display at QQS." Luna had a loony and dreamy look on her face.

"I-I'm sure you didn't need to eat those strawberries for him to notice you." Hermione retorted in an extra high-pitched voice. "I mean that's just coincidence. He's liked you for ages, he's just struggling to express himself without making a fool of himself in front of you, right, Gin?" _'And besides,'_ she thought,_ 'that was days ago, not yesterday...'_ Yup, definitely not the strawberries... But maybe the whipped cream...

Luna shrugged dismissively, before turning to talk to the girl beside her. "Ginny, Ronald told me that you'll bring the mandrake bracelet he got me." Her blond curls and blast-ended skrewt danglers bobbed with every movement she made. "Did you bring it? I need it for my report in Herbology."

"Oh yeah. It's in the head's common room, screaming like it was constantly being murdered. Come on, let's get it." Ginny pulled herself up from the bench, and so did Luna. "Come with us, Hermione. I'm sure you'd like to check out your former quarters."

"Just a sec." Hermione finished chopping the onions and washed her hands on the sink.

-

When the three entered the Head dormitories, Luna immediately plopped down on the rug and began playing with the chibi-mandrakes of her bracelet, soothing it to stop screaming. Ginny went up to her room and got Harry's present for her to show it to the two while Hermione walked around the common room, reveling in the familiar feeling it gave her.

She stopped at the other side of the room and stared at the magical stone slab on the marble podium, where the names of the previous heads were written in their own calligraphy. She smiled at her name, shimmering gold, which she inscribed using a special quill the previous year. Her fingers unconsciously traced the letters of the name opposite hers, where the elegant cursive of her Head Boy glimmered in silver.

Okay... Since when did she start thinking of Draco Malfoy as :her: Head Boy?

"I knew it! Since I first entered Hogwarts, I knew the two of you would click!" A voice came from her right, and Hermione jumped slightly when she saw Luna grinning like an idiot, her lion's hat beaming equally bright.

"Fate has a funny way of bringing two people together, don't you think?" Luna's cerulean orbs looked extra bright as she fiddled with her bracelet. "Just like Harry and Ginevra. And you and Draco."

Hermione, who, even when she was young never really believed in Fate, clucked her tongue in annoyance. "Luna..." She began, trying to explain herself, but a gasp from her other side alerted her that Ginny heard whatever Luna was blabbering about.

"So :that's: why you were acting strange! I just knew I hit a nerve back there..." Ginny shrieked.

"Uhm, well..."

"You two really look good together!"

"And you weren't planning on telling me?"

"... You see..."

"In fact, I reckon you just pretended to hate each other then..."

"Did you think that I wouldn't understand-"

"No, see there's..."

"You were practically meant for each other..."

"I told you I'm not against such relationships!"

"But there's nothing-"

"And you don't have to deny it, Hermione..."

"Because even if he was mean back then, you love him!"

Whatever witty comment Hermione meant to throw back in riposte to Luna and Ginny's lecture died out of her lips as their last remarks surprisingly connected.

Did she love him?

All coherent thoughts in her mind disintegrated and turned into hazy and vague concepts, and all she could do was stare out into nothingness as their words registered in her mind. Sensible Hermione Granger was turning into a lost case!

-

After much coaxing and some tea later, Hermione found herself roaming the hallways of Hogwarts. Ginny and Luna somehow managed to squeeze out every single detail of her predicament (but she firmly left out the descriptions), and it felt quite reliving that someone knew the weight of her troubles. Luna suggested that she go for a walk to clear her mind, and that was what exactly she was doing now.

So, even if she was feeling very much exhausted and emotionally drained, she left the two in the Head dormitories to talk and plan about the next events for the students, and ended up wandering aimlessly. She had been from the Gryffindor Common Room, checking on the few Gryffindors that stayed over for the Holidays, strolled outside on the grounds, visited Hagrid, walked around the greenhouses and greeted the Giant Squid that resided in the Lake and decided to walk back into the warmth of the castle soon after. A few hours later Hermione walked around the corridors of Hogwarts again, befuddled still, rounded a corner and looked around, surprised that her surroundings were unfamiliar; and she finally conceded that her nightly rounds with Draco as Heads of their year didn't help in making her an expert in exploring the whole of Hogwarts. She was sure that Harry and Ron, or even the Marauders didn't know about this queer door she was standing right in front of.

Curiosity always getting the better off her, she pushed the heavy doors open and stepped into a room full of mirrors, clocks of different types and hourglasses of varying sizes and forms. The rays of the setting sun flitted in the room through small openings; the rays were reflected and refracted through the glasses of the hourglasses, casting light on the walls while specks of dust flew around and spun slowly in the light's path, giving the room a golden and ethereal feel to it.

Her gaze landed on the hourglass on top of the granite table, glimmering with the sunlight, its silvery grains sifting down the other side, and she remembered her third year when she enlisted too many subjects that she couldn't handle them all. She consulted Professor McGonagall and true enough, the kind Professor gave her a time turner. It did serve its purpose then, but when she desperately needed it for something other than her academic and scholastic activities, Crookshanks set his eyes on it, pawed, and clawed on it until the glass cracked slightly that some of the golden grains fell out of it.

She refused to dwell on the depressing events around her and focused instead on the interesting items in front of her. The pocket watch looked eerily like something she saw before, though she couldn't quite place who owned it and where she saw it...

She walked around the room, occasionally touching the items that interest her and took comfort at the tickity-tock the small and huge clocks made. She found her reflections amusing as the glass surfaces distorted her image, some breaking her reflection into pieces, some enlarging her eyes and ears or some making her hand slimmer than usual. It was a strange room; but she knew that of all the thousands of students Hogwarts housed, she was only one of the fortunate few to have encountered the room. She had a hunch that it was the Room of Requirement that decided to change into something like this.

She turned on her heels and to the general direction of the door and was about to go out of the room when all of a sudden, a prickly feeling settled on her back. She turned again, and she was taken aback when she saw a huge mirror materialize in front of her. Hermione grabbed her wand and held it tightly, putting her Auror training into use. She almost felt very disappointed that there was nothing out of the usual, since her Auror instincts tended to kick in rather late at the most pressing opportunities, but the mirror in front of her looked so out of place compared to all the brass items in the room.

Carefully she tapped her wand on the frame of the looking glass, muttering spells that could possibly reveal the true form of an object, but no transfiguration or hexing happened. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; maybe she was being a paranoid because Draco was just rubbing off on her. _'Stupid Draco...'_

When she opened her eyes, she saw a pair of silver eyes looking back at her.

"Draco!" She gasped out in surprise. Hands twitching in anger, she spun around to face the git that had a habit of popping in out-of-nowhere, intent on slapping the living daylights out of him for appearing just about anywhere and giving him a piece of her mind. But her hands met the chill air behind her and Hermione frowned. Where was that git? "Malfoy... Draco, I know you're in here. Show yourself." She cried out a little too loudly.

The still air seemed to taunt her as her voice echoed around the room.

Fed up but still wary, Hermione turned to face the mirror again, blinking a few times before looking at the mirror intently. Why was Draco still there? And why was her face not scrunched up into a frown, which she was fairly sure her features were contorted into just now? She reached out to touch the surface of the glass, and was startled when her reflection didn't move an inch. She knew her eyes widened further in astonishment when the Draco in the mirror bent down to kiss her neck, her throat and her cheeks while his hands skimmed her body, and the Hermione in the mirror respond eagerly to his touch.

The most shocking thing was, she could also feel Draco's fleeting caresses on her body on the places where his reflection touched her reflection self.

"No..." She shook her head. "That's just my imagination... N-no... That's... That can't be... NO!" Hermione screeched as she stepped back, and she tripped on her own feet. She brushed the dust off and looked up to the heavens, as if questioning her fate and expecting the sky to open and redeem her at that moment, but her eyes landed on the almost indiscernible writings above the looking glass. Her eyes narrowed into focus, trying to read the almost vague writing.

There, just above the mirror, covered in dust and cobwebs, was the inscription.

_Erised stra eh ruoyt ubecaf ruoyt onuoy wohsi_

Her gaze flickered from the mirror to the lettering then back to the mirror again, and she felt her face grow hot and herself go so red when she saw the reflections mimic what she so desperately tried to forget; one that happened, coincidentally, in front of a looking glass just a few days ago.

Realization struck Hermione as she remembered Harry and Ron telling her about a strange mirror that they encountered way back first year...

_'I saw my parents... Standing right behind me...'_

_'I was Head Boy then... With the Quidditch Cup in my hands...'_

The mirror of Erised... It shows you not your face but your heart's desire...

It wasn't what she wanted! What she wanted was to be successful, to achieve her and Harry's and Ron's dreams, for the people she cared about most to be happy, and for the wizards and muggles to coexist without hurting each other and all in all - however tedious and Miss Congeniality sounding it is - world peace...

But was that what she really, really:really: wanted? Is the looking glass playing jokes on her? Or was it telling her a happiness that she secretly wished to have?

Extremely baffled and distraught at what she saw, Hermione picked herself up from the floor and diligently averted her eyes from the looking glass, and began a hasty gait towards what now seemed like a very far door at the other end of the room. When she reached the double doors, she finally gave in to her mind's curiosity and took a chance at glancing at the mirror again. Her hands flew to her mouth when she saw herself in the mirror, garbed in a long, pristine-white dress with matching elbow-length gloves, a crown of flowers on her head, and in the arms of a not-so-clearly-depicted man dressed in impeccable black robes. She stared much longer and scrutinized it further before she saw her reflection beaming brightly and waving. When her eyes settled on her companion's blurry features, her jaw dropped open as she saw the unmistakable moonlight fringes that fell boyishly on intense mercury eyes, the long, ebony lashes, the aristocratic nose and the undeniably disarming smile that could only belong to one Draco Malfoy.

Hermione immediately fled from the room and ran blindly through the hallways, wishing that the conflicting feelings her heart insisted on manifesting at that moment would go bugger off for good. This wasn't what she had planned; she had already laid out her goals and dreams before she graduated from Hogwarts! She was supposed to graduate, get a job in the Ministry as an Auror, live a simple life, and eventually achieve a high-ranking position in the Ministry, or perchance, become the Minister of Magic! And now, all those long hours of studying diligently and the extra efforts she exerted on maintaining her grades would just crumble into smithereens... All just because of that arrogant, bigoted, obnoxious, irritating, self-righteous, insufferable, vain, disgusting, self-centered, pompous, incorrigible, sneaky, evil, diabolical, good-for-nothing, smarmy, egotistical, intelligent, charming, confident, quick-witted, strong, dashing, attractive, spontaneous, agile, clever, sexy, devastatingly handsome, twitchy, little ferret...

Her train of thoughts stopped abruptly when she bumped into another person and she fell flat on her arse. "Ow!" She cried, wincing in pain as she rubbed the offended part of her body unconsciously.

"Oh, I apologize, Ms. Granger. Here, let me help you."

An extended hand appeared in front of her face and she took it, and then she cautiously looked up from glaring at the carpeted floor, intent on giving that careless student who was clumsy enough to not notice her big, bushy hair, only to see the long fingers of the offender pick up a fallen package of Bertie Bott's every flavored beans. "H-Headmaster Dumbledore...!" Cried Hermione, piecing the puzzle pieces together. Of course, Dumbledore was the only person who she knew had a terrible fixation on everything sweet... A fixation on appearing just about everywhere... And the infamous eyes-twinkling-like-he-knew-a-very-deep-secret was still there! "Headmaster, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking..."

Dumbledore just smiled at her and looked down at her through his half-moon spectacles. "That's quite all right. I was busy trying to open the candies too. Care for a Bertie Bott'?s" He offered the now-open pack to her.

Hermione got the feeling that the Headmaster was using Legilimency and is trying to look into her soul, so she immediately built a barrier and shook her head to refuse the proffered candy, straightened up and smiled at the old wizard. She couldn't let her conflicting feelings resurface in front of the Headmas-

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Miss Granger?"

She felt like running away. Of course, the infamous question. It would be very un-Headmaster-like if he didn't ask :that:. He just :knows: what to do to make a person open up... But Hermione wasn't going to do so. "Nothing. None at all, Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked like he was contemplating some of the deepest mysteries of the world, but later on he smiled sunnily again before nodding silently.

Hermione averted her gaze from the scrutinizing ones of her leader. "I think Ginny and Luna are already looking for me, Professor. Thank you again, a-and sorry..." She half-scampered, half-walked away from the old man. She walked past the wizard and was made to turn a corner, but she stopped abruptly and turned around. "Headmaster...?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore turned around to face her, eyes still twinkling like his tear glands were producing too much tears.

But Hermione didn't let that get to her. "I was just wondering... The mirror of Erised... Is there a chance that... That it tells you something you don't really desire?"

Dumbledore plopped a green candy into his mouth, chewed on it slowly before replying to her question. "The mirror, Miss Granger, has been known to tell what the heart truly desires. It doesn't tell you something you don't want. One might think that it is not what one wishes, but it is only because what one sees is something that one's mind does not consciously wish, but rather what resides deep in one's heart." He pointed a finger to his heart at this remark. "You might have seen something different the first time you looked at it, but it is mainly because the heart's deepest desires change through time, but not entirely. In the very least, it doesn't lie."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I see..." So that means...

"Did you, perchance, look into the mirror?" Came the Headmaster's question.

She shook her head almost instantly at that. "NO! I mean, no, Professor. Just... Curious, that's all."

Dumbledore just smiled at her again. "Yes, yes. The mirror shows the heart's deepest desires. I'm afraid that's all there is to it, Miss Granger."

Hermione offered a feeble smile towards the Headmaster.

"The heart has reasons that reason itself does not understand, but everything comes out right in the end. Destiny does not leave loose ends unattended." He winked at her. "Now I think Misses Weasley and Lovegood are waiting for you in the head dormitories. Password is bread pudding." He turned around and walked away, leaving Hermione gawking at his retreating form. What was that all about?

-

»Some Additional Notes«

_"The heart has reasons that reason itself cannot understand." _- Jerry, from Princess Diaries 2. Just popped into my mind while writing... I thought it was a very Dumbledore-like dialogue, so... There. Tee-hee.

I think no one loves me… I think I'm so unappreciated here in RL (real life)… :Wails:

Er, gomen for that momentary emotional instability. It was uncalled for. Hehe.

Catmar – AWWWWWWWW! That's so… How do I say this… Sweet? Flattering? Encouraging? Whatever! What I wanted to say was that you really had me motivated! It's very heartwarming to know that you had to go through all those troubles just to review my fic! Well, maybe the reject-anonymous-reviews thingy did have its advantages… Hehehe. It's touching! It's sooo… Agh! Anyways, you don't find anything wrong? Really? That's cool… Aw come on, Draco being sexy (and I mean :sexy:) is like, an understatement:D lol Thank you very much! Grazie!

Sw33tdohtee – You're a Filipina? Then: _Ang galing!_ _Magandang araw sa iyo!_ Lol

'Man, she HAD to say Harry's name?' Got you frustrated, didn't I? Hehe. But I fear that the readers have misinterpreted it, so I'll say it now. No, Hermione's love for Harry is merely platonic. Lucius in character? Wow. That's like, telling me I am a great writer! Because honestly I had a difficult time trying to characterize Lucius Malfoy and in my opinion he is one of the most difficult characters to write in HP realm… And so is Draco, and Harry, and Dumbledore and everyone else… Hahaha. No, you're not repeating yourself. Oh, and my sufferings have ended! Weeeeeeeeee! My Hell Week has gone by and I got out of it unscathed! (well, save for the fact that I got banged a number of times against the Russian Pump I was climbing during my Sports Climbing class, and that I had to remain suspended in midair for around five minutes that I felt soooo dizzy I almost spewed my innards out (yech!)) And I'm about to finish this fic, because I'm dying to get my other one out! XP

Kace08 – have mercy! Don't bite my head off just yet, you might not get your preferred ending… XD Harhar. What if I say that I'm evil and diabolical in nature? And that I'm about to finish this one? What sayeth thou? XD Oh, the snow globe? Hmm… I think I'll leave that for you to figure out. I'm evil, aren't I:evil, diabolical cackle:

Venus725 – Always have good endings? Thanks! Never knew I had it in me to even do something like that… I told you this was supposed to be a one-shot, but it ended like this, so… Tee-hee.

DracoDraconis – he wasn't a love-sick puppy? That's good to hear! I fear that I didn't do justice to his character, and it's nice to hear that you liked him! And yeah, I kind of like the non-whiny-clingy-head-over-heels-madly-in-love-number-one-fan-of-Draco! Pansy. Hehehehe.

Another bunch of thanks to the others who read this, those who added this in the fave stories list, and those who added me in the fave authors list! I love you all:beams:

By the by, does anyone here listen to Korean music? Or is Korean? I haven't found an English translation of Fly to the Sky's "Gravity" and I'm dying to get my hands on their album… It would be nice if someone gave me that, but… Oh well. At least I'll have a chance to buy that in Hong Kong when I go there for our field trip. Shopping galore:squeals: But still, does anyone have that? I'd appreciate it if you'd give it to me… The translations and the album, vol.5... XD

Next Chapter: Deceptions, more of the Mafloys and Parkinsons exposed, missing wands and… The much-awaited Yearend Ball! And yes, sadly (or not?) it is the final chapter… :wails:

Oh, and another gomen because the fanfiction quickedit version 2 dot 3 isn't working so well that I think the chapter just screwed up the punctuation marks so... Sorry in advance.

Comme Toujours!


	10. Finale 1: Dare to Move

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com (this isn't meant to be a link, but still it screwed up…)

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me:grins sheepishly:

Another thing…

This is supposed to be the last chapter, but I decided to split it into two, because in all honesty I feel that it is far too long. And I also want to apologize for the very long delay on this fic. For the past month I've been touring different places non-stop, I couldn't even sit down and just post this in the net… And as of press time my nose is bleeding because the weather's such a pain… But don't worry; nothing a little first aid that I learned wouldn't remedy, so I'll get by. I'm a tough cookie.

Oh and by the by, if you still don't know about it, a lot of very good D/Hr fics are nominated (and some recently awarded) in the Dangerous Liasons, so if you're looking for really good reads, check the site: (just decode this one: eychteeteepicolondoubleslashtripledoubleudotimperviusdotorgslashdangerousslashawardsslashawardunderscorebee… Figures, ne?)

Enjoy my humble offering!

* * *

Finale: Dare to Move

__

I don't mind spending everyday

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay a while_

_And she will be loved_

_And she will be loved_

_... Please don't try so hard to say goodbye_

_Please don't try so hard to say goodbye_

_... I've tried so hard to say goodbye...

* * *

_

The doors to the Malfoy Manor's sitting room burst open as Lucius entered the room, intent on retrieving his snakehead staff, his sable Cagoule rushing behind him.

Narcissa soon followed while fixing her deep purple floor length dress conspicuously, her gray eyes scanning the room, and then she noticed a lone figure sitting on the chair in front of the burning fireplace. She approached the chair and sat on its arm. "We'll be off, Draco." Narcissa placed her hand on Draco's shoulder before fixing the collar of her son's shirt while he sat in front of the fireplace, wand being twirled between his fingers and an impassive look on his face.

"I'll follow soon, Mother." He retorted without removing his gaze at the flying embers on the furnace.

Narcissa detected the distant tone in his voice, and she fought her maternal instincts from showing and suppressed the urge to wrap her arms around her only child. It was like he lost all hope to continue his life, as if there was no reason for him to continue anymore. For years, Narcissa never saw Draco give up; Lucius' lecture about the Malfoy Code gave him enough confidence and determination to get what he wanted. Although he always rated second best, she saw the efforts he had given just to make them proud. And Narcissa Malfoy is indeed proud of her son.

"Who are you going with, by the way?" She prodded.

Draco grumbled something incoherent, something that suspiciously sounded like 'Damn Blaise,' before sighing dismissively and answering. "Pansy, who else?"

"Oh? I see..." She was shocked, to say the least. Shouldn't he be going with Hermione? Why isn't he going with Hermione? Did the efforts she exerted on putting two and two together go in vain?

"Narcissa. Let's go." Lucius tapped his cane impatiently against the carpeted floor.

"Just a minute, Lucius." She said over her shoulder, before turning to her son. "We'll be going now." Narcissa caressed Draco's cheek she swore she felt him lean in to her touch slightly and smiled at her son lovingly before standing to move towards the door.

When Narcissa reached the door Lucius was already holding it open for her. She stared at her husband pointedly, blue-rimmed orbs silently pleading for his support, but then sighed tiredly upon encountering the barrier in his eyes before walking out of the door.

Lucius understood the message Narcissa was trying to send him but he didn't know what to do. He wasn't used to comforting his son, or any person for that matter. He wasn't nice and kind and amicable to start with; Malfoys always were indifferent and unyielding. Everyone knew he was a dictator, that stoicism and sarcasm were Malfoy past times, but the sight of his son made him want to drop dead on the floor and die of guilt for not knowing how to comfort him.

Draco's human side definitely rooted from Narcissa. He knew that all too well, but was expressing emotions or _going daft, _as told in Malfoy Code of Conduct page 3an act of defying standards? Isn't it proof that the Malfoys, as any mudblood or muggle-lover, were also human despite their queer disposition...? Lucius knew that. His heart yearned to reach out toDraco, but he didn't know how. So instead, he said what he thought would be the most comforting to his son.

"Forget that girl and get a life, Draco." Lucius gritted out in his most Lucius Malfoy-ish manner.

"Father?"

"Nothing." Lucius turned. _'Nothing you won't be able to figure out yourself.'_ He thought acidly before closing the door behind them.

As the Malfoys walked into the receiving ballroom of the manor, Narcissa glanced at her husband from her peripheral. "Way to be smooth, Lucius. Way to be smooth, indeed." She said stiffly. And here she thought that her son would finally find happiness...

"You know me, Narcissa. I'm certain the boy would get the message." He responded before leading her out of the manor and into the cold winter night.

_

* * *

"Forget that girl and get a life, Draco."_

When Draco heard these words from his Father, his heart tightened. He couldn't ever, for the life of Merlin, understand what his Father just told him. He understood his Father literally, but as to what the underlying meaning to his words were, he couldn't decipher. It was either sarcastic or sincere, and to add to that, his tone didn't help much.

The moment the door clicked close, the flames of the fireplace rose higher and turned green. Soon after, a face appeared in its midst.

"Draco Malfoy! You look absolutely dashing!"

Draco smirked. "That's the understatement of the year, Pansy. Don't worry, I'll see to it that my personal owl delivers that to Witch Weekly in time for the cut-off." He yawned, as if to emphasize boredom. "Are you done yet?"

Pansy appeared to be thinking about something as profound as to what Severus Snape wears to bed, but then she shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, almost."

"Then expect me in two minutes." Draco stood from his seat and grabbed the perfectly pressed cloak hanging at the back of his wingback chair and the pure white handkerchief folded neatly on the arm of the chair, and then poised his wand above him, ready to apparate.

"Wait, wait!" She said hastily, effectively stopping Draco from apparating. "Don't apparate!"

"What?"

"I'm not in the mansion!" She added. "And please, Dray, let's not hail a carriage for us, you own one. Its not like your parents would use your carriage rather than theirs..."

Petulant, Draco raised an inquisitive eyebrow, the eyebrow itself silently questioning her request. "How can you be so sure about that?"

"Just a hunch..."

Draco's lips lifted into a sardonic grin.

"Come on, they wouldn't use that, Uncle Lucius wants to announce his presence tonight. Why use :your: carriage when his is more extravagant? Just... Let's use yours... Please?" Pansy pleaded.

He stood defiantly, staring at his childhood friend. '_When did Pansy suddenly become demanding...?' _He wondered, still suspicious, but later on he realized the validity of her reasoning."... Fine." Draco conceded, a little while later. "Where are you?"

"I'm over at a friend's place. You see I'm trying to help-"

"Millicent? In Bulstrode Estate, then." He slipped on his cloak and began to walk towards the door.

"NO!" Pansy shrieked.

Draco flinched slightly at the sound of her voice. "Damn it, woman! Stop screaming like a banshee!"

"But you wouldn't let me finish!" Pansy protested. "If you'd just listen, I wouldn't be screaming like hell!" She scowled, but it immediately disappeared when she saw Draco cross his arms in front of him. "Good boy. Now"

"I'm not a dog!"

"Oh! Yeah, right, you're a ferret. Anyways"

"Pansy-"

"Okay, okay!" She smiled sheepishly. "I'm at a friend's house. Number 14 Niveus Estage. I'm sure you know the place quite :very: well."

Draco's expression of boredom suddenly became grim. "Pansy. You know that I am cutting off all ties with her."

"Merlin's ghost, Draco! You're just going to fetch me! Not fetch :us!" Pansy countered. "And besides, isn't it about bloody time that you treat this relationship, uh, affair, erm, situation, or whatever you want to call it, like an adult?"

Draco averted his eyes from Pansy's startling green, courtesy of the flames. Did she think it was that easy when all he wanted to do was

"For me, Draco? Please?"

After a long, suffering breath, Draco brought his gaze back to the hearth. "For you, Pans. For you."

Pansy's smile could have looked much better if not for the green-ness of her face. "Fabulous! Thanks, I love you Draco!" She said, before popping out of the floo network.

"Yeah whatever."

* * *

"I'm so, very :very: sorry, Hermione. My Father wanted me to meet one of our business partners beforehand. Methinks it can wait 'til the Ball, but he insists. I'm really sorry." Blaise's green face frowned so deep that Hermione wanted to reach out and tickle it. Honestly, it doesn't bode well with his features. 

"All right already, Blaise!" She retorted while fumbling with the clasp of her brooch.

"You're not angry?"

"Of course not, silly. It's not your fault, and it's important business." Hermione smiled.

"You're not?" Blaise brightened up considerably. "Don't worry, I'll send for my coachman to fetch you at around... 7:30, and I'll just wait for you near the main door of the Ministry, okay?" Suddenly, his expression became sad and he shook his head solemnly. "Shame I couldn't stroll in with a smashing girl in my arms..."

"Really now, Blaise. Stop joking around. I'm anything but that. I'm just... Me." Hermione offered rather feebly.

Blaise tutted. "Tsk, nonsense, Hermione! You shouldn't underestimate your features!" He shook his head ruefully. "You silly, beautiful girl... I'll see you in the Ball, okay? Be careful!"

"Will do..." Hermione replied faintly just before Blaise disappeared from the floo. She heard those words before...

... You silly, beautiful girl...

* * *

When the carriage slowed, Draco felt, for the first time in his life, apprehension fill his heart. Sure, all those years of having the Malfoy Code drilled into his mind made him as confident and as determined as possible, but never had his emotions been in such a state of distraught. His thoughts and feelings were starting to run in circles. 

He knew that eventually he would have to face her, since his Father suddenly wanted him to start working for the Ministry in his behalf instead of in the business towers next week, but he never expected that to happen so soon. And to think that Hermione would be all dressed up tonight...

After swearing vengeance for Pansy on Salazar Slytherin's grave, he pushed the carriage door open and stepped down in front of the low brass gate, pulled himself together and walked towards the door. Draco exhaled briefly, the air in front of him turning into mist, and lifted his gloved hand to use the knocker and knocked on the door.

* * *

Hermione sprung up from her comfortable recline on the divan, reading her latest book that Harry and Ron bought her, when the knocker announced the presence of another person at her doorstep. 

"Just a minute, please!" She shouted as she paused slightly at the hallway and looked at herself in the mirror, fixed her surprisingly docile hair and readjusted her dress. She smiled at her reflection before taking cautious steps in her sexy albeit very high and slim stilettos to prevent herself from tripping and headed towards the door.

She placed a gloved hand to rest on the door as she moved her face to peek through the eyehole, and when she saw Draco Malfoy up in her doorstep, she almost fainted. Where is Blaise's carriage? And why is he here?

When Hermione calmed down and the wheels in her brain slowed, she mustered enough courage to open the door. Why should she be guilty? There really is nothing to it, because after all has been said and done, they both didn't make any effort or whatsoever to patch up their drift or even to talk about what happened between them. That could only mean that they are reverting to what the two of them used to be... Mere acquaintances. Before opening it fully, she plastered what she hoped was a cheerful and pleasant smile, resolute and assuring herself that she was not going to admire his features, that she was not going to say anything about the previous incidents, that she would only open the door, usher him in if needed, then talk as if nothing made a huge crack in their relationship... That is, if there :is: such a relationship...

All her rationalizing and control flew out of the proverbial window when Hermione saw Draco staring at her from under his long lashes, digging his heels surreptitiously in the thin sheet of snow that formed at the top level of her doorstep, and raising an inquisitive eyebrow at her. She couldn't look away; she :wouldn't: look away. How could she when he was looking so, so...

* * *

"Come on, mate. I'm sure Hermione would be surprised to see us." Ron straightened his grey robes for the third time, seeing nothing else to do as he waited for his best friend to emerge from Percy's room. 

"Ronald, stop running your hands through your robes, it's unnerving!" Came Molly Weasley's voice from the living room.

"I stopped already!"

"Oh no you didn't!"

"I did, Mum!"

"Now, now. Before you two commence into another battle of who's wrong and who's right, let's go ahead." Arthur Weasley beckoned his wife to where he stood near the door. "Let's not spoil the two's surprise for Hermione, Molly." He kissed his wife on the forehead when she reached his side.

Molly scowled. "I was just telling your youngest son to stop straightening his robes, or"

"All right, all right." He draped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. "The carriage is waiting."

Ron's face contorted into something like disgust. "Yeah, the carriage is waiting, Mum. Bye Dad, bye Mum!"

The sound of the rushed closing of the door and the neigh of the horse told Ron that his parents were gone. So, the redhead sat on the kitchen stool again, careful to ruin his new robes, and shouted to his companion. "Merlin's ghost, Harry. You take just as long as Ginny to dress up! How do you suppose we get Hermione a present if you're taking this long?"

Footsteps descended the stairs and down came Harry Potter, navy blue trench coat billowing behind him as he ran down the stairs to meet his friend. "Ron, we don't need to go anywhere to get Hermione a present. We'll make her a present. We've neglected her for far too long now. I reckon it's about time we give her something that came from us." He smiled, glasses falling off his nose bridge as he lifted his hand to show Ron the beginnings of his work.

Ron smiled at Harry and brought out his wand. "Harry, that's... Wicked."

* * *

He couldn't look away. He :wouldn't: look away. How could he when she looked so endearing, so beautiful as she stood there before him, the light pouring out from the hallway and outlining her like she was an apparition? 

Draco took in every single detail of Hermione the way her hair was fixed on a twist on her head, how the small tendrils intentionally left from the coif curled and framed her face, how her hazel eyes glowed as bright as the 9.2 silver in her black diamond earrings and necklace, the snug fit of the long, black tube dress that revealed and complimented her body curves... There were just too many things about her that he found mesmerizing.

If he had been watching this scene playing in front of him, he would have 'Crucio'ed himself for acting like a hapless, crazed, deranged sap in love with a girl...

Wasn't he like that now?

Finally finding it in himself to smack himself mentally, Draco tore his eyes away from her astounding beauty and fixed his gaze on the potted plant in her doorway. "Granger."

"M-Malfoy." It came out much like a gasp, but she decided to ignore she ever thought of it as such.

"Where's Pansy?"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at his query. "Wha... Pansy? What Pansy?"

"Stop playing games, Hermione." Draco opened the door much wider and invited himself in. "Pansy!" He called out.

Hermione felt a nerve throbbing in her temple. "Draco, Pansy's not here!" She closed the door behind her as she followed Draco. "What are you doing?" She questioned irritably, unconsciously rubbing her black-clad hand on her forehead in annoyance. When she received no answer, she huffed. "Oh come on, don't you know that inviting oneself into another's house is rude? Oh, what was I thinking, you were always rude!" She shouted, drowning out Draco's voice calling on Pansy.

He turned to her and scowled. "Where's Pansy?"

"What do I look like, the keeper of lost people?" She snapped.

"I posed a question, Granger. Answer me." He gritted as he grabbed her upper arm.

Hermione tugged her arm away, but he wouldn't release her. "I don't know, all right! Why would she be here anyway?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, gray eyes flashing a dangerous hint of silver, before he pulled her into the living room, searching for Pansy. When she wasn't there (because frankly, no one else is there), he went the other direction to look for his missing friend, ignoring the hooting of a white owl that he recognized as Potter's, and the icy glare he received from the kneazle-look-a-like pet of Hermione. It wasn't like he'd be intimidated by such trivial pets.

She tried to shake him off, but his grip was too strong, so she was helplessly dragged by him as he searched fruitlessly. It was difficult being dragged around, but it was worse because the high stilettos she wore wasn't something she was used to walking around with. "Stop pulling me..." She cried out, but he just ignored her. "Draco, you're hurting meOw!"

Draco turned her to him rather roughly when he heard her flinch. Hurting her wasn't really his intentions, and he really didn't mean it... "Wha"

Hermione flew forward as she tripped on her shoes, because honestly, a pair of stilettos isn't the ideal type of shoe that one needs when one is to be dragged around mercilessly. She lost her balance and landed not so gracefully on Draco, who hit his head and his back on the wall.

"Damn it, woman!" He complained as he rubbed his hand behind his head, soothing the shooting pain.

"Why you" Hermione sat up almost instantly and on her arms and knees, half-crawled half-ran away from Draco. A thin piece of wood digging slightly in her arm reminded her that she was an Auror, and that she could do something, so Hermione immediately pulled her wand out from her elbow-length gloves and aimed it at him, thinking about a hex that would make him pay... "Densauge"

"Expelliarmus! Accio wand!"

Hermione's wand was midway to the floor when it flew towards his free hand. "Malfoy!" She spat out.

Draco smiled smugly at her from the wall, twirling her wand and staring at her slightly disarrayed clothes and hair. "Tough luck, Granger. Where were your Auror skills when you needed them?" He stood up and dusted himself off. "Bollocks, my robes...!"

"Serves you right..." Hermione muttered darkly as she retrieved her stiletto, which coincidentally also flew from her foot. She slipped it on and strapped it securely, mumbling something around the sounds of vain, pompous, arsehole, trespassing and lawsuit.

A proffered hand became visible in her line of vision, and she glared at it before glaring at the owner. "I don't need your help, you deranged bastard!"

"Yes you do." Draco retorted.

"No I don't!" She shouted as she began to kneel to obtain balance, her hands on the floor serving as leverage.

He watched her as she scrambled on all fours, and couldn't help but look down her dress, sneak a peek, and managed a lopsided grin. Hermione Jane Granger, sexy little vixen... Who would've thought...? "Unless you want to ruin the stunning clothes, yes you don't need my help. But no, you can't, because you're going to a Ball." Draco grabbed her shoulders and she jerked away, but not fast enough because Draco's hands shot out to hold her again and he pulled her up to stand directly in front of him, and dusted her off. Of course, without forgetting to feel her up in the right places...

"Get your stinking hands off me, you slimy git!" She flailed her arms, screeching, pushing his hands from her body. "You've been harassing me and you just committed trespassing! I'm going to get the Aurors"

"And ruin the Yearend Ball? Really now, Granger. Where is your pure, noble, altruistic, Gryffindor morality? They're having an absolutely wonderful time there, dancing, chatting, drinking, or doing whatever those motherfucking people do in a bloody Ball and you'll inform them that a deranged, slimy, fucking pillock and soon-to-be-Auror barged in at your house?" Draco interjected testily as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of him and gazing at her, his right hand holding both their wands. "And here I thought :you: of all people prioritized other people's happiness."

Hermione leered at the carpet, angry at what was transpiring. Why the hell is he searching her house for Pansy? Where was Blaise's coachman? What was he ranting on about pillocks and soon-to-be-Aurors? And most importantly, why did she feel like flinging herself to him?

She heard Draco curse softly in front of her, and she brought her gaze up to see that Draco was eyeing her forearms. She saw him extend his wand and perform spells to heal her bruises, after which he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I... I apologize for hurting you."

"You think that's enough?" She cried, wriggling out of his grasp and backing away awkwardly. "Give me my wand! And Pansy's not here! And where's Blaise's carriage!" She continued, her voice rising with each sentence.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "Your wand? I think not. I still detect violence in your voice, my dear mudblo-er-muggleborn. I seem to remember you being less hostile towards me several days prior."

She scoffed and looked at him darkly, the shimmer on her eyelids and the corners of her eyes emphasizing the glare, before the anger-smoldering-in-the-eyes look was ruined when she took a step back and swayed slightly, courtesy of the eight-inch high stilettos she was struggling in.

Draco found this very amusing, and he chuckled. "Why, if it weren't for-"

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"But I was just-"

"I said sod off, ferret!" Hermione whined. "What is your business here anyway, git?"

Draco's face became stoic all of a sudden, and his eyes went steely, his gaze looked sharp and his voice ran cold. "I am supposed to fetch Pansy here."

"Well," Hermione walked wobbly in the direction of her coat hanger while speaking. "Seeing as Pansy is not here, I believe you're mistaken, Mr. Malfoy. Now if you'd excuse me," she continued as she threw on her fur coat. "Blaise's carriage would be by shortly, and I suggest you head out of my flat now. Unless you want to be detained in the Ministry for breaking in, that is." She picked up her small purse on the table near the door and waited for him to head out.

Draco scowled at how he knew he looked like an idiot, and he swore that Pansy's revenge would be twice as difficult to bear and ultimately twice as sweet. He walked out, impervious and regal, his black robes rushing behind him.

Hermione turned to lock her door. "I'll be seeing you around, Malfoy." She pulled her coat together and climbed down the front steps, Draco hot on her trails as he moved from the house to his parked carriage.

* * *

"Okay, we're here." Blaise's hand crept towards the handle of the door of his carriage as the carriage came to a stop. The bright lights poured out of the Ministry doors and lively music streamed from the establishment, and to Blaise, who was more than ecstatic, it was a very good time and place to make a scene. "Let's go already!" 

"Just a sec..."

"Come on, you're absolutely smashing! No need for muggle beauty products."

"Why are you pulling the same stunt on me as you did to Hermione? And here I thought it was I alone..."

"Oh come on..."

"That's a joke, dear. Just wait a second, my lips are chapped..."

"Ooookay... If you're still so busy, I'd just be waiting outside."

"No, no. Let's go, I'm ready." She smacked her lips together and clamped down her lips gently on a tissue paper before she crushed it and motioned for Blaise to open the door. "We can't have you wait for me now, can we? If we are to make a scene, we go together."

"Impeccably Slytherin, love." Blaise smirked as he stopped, turned and reached out to brush his hand above her chest.

A pale eyebrow shot up. "Don't go lecherous on me now, Blaise."

He merely shook his head as his hands crept down to fasten the clasp of her robes properly, and then the door went open as the waiting attendant opened it. "Shall we go, Milady?" He stepped out of the vehicle and into the night and held out his hand for her to hold on to, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She rolled her eyes at him, but nonetheless followed him and slipped her arm onto his.

Blaise patted her hand on his arm. "Stop thinking about something else, we've got a Ball to attend and a certain elder Parkinson to make apoplectic."

She smacked him lightly on the arm, but laughed at Blaise's words. "Just make sure we do that, darling."

Cameras began to flash wildly around them, taking pictures of them. The pair smiled and walked in the direction of the doors, stopping occasionally to greet people or to answer questions from the Wizarding press, questions that were mainly about their peculiar presence (and date), or about business and whatnot, and about another person's whereabouts to which Blaise curtly answered 'Oh you know, some place where he has to be. I'm sure he'll announce his presence in a real head turning manner,' accompanied by an enigmatic smile that was truly Slytherin in nature, before whisking the blonde girl in his arms and sauntering to the doors, leaving the press to whisper and speculate.

* * *

Seven thirty came by, but still no sign of Blaise's carriage. Hermione pulled her coat closer and sighed, her breath forming thick clouds in front of her. Maybe she should have told Blaise that she'd apparate instead, and maybe she shouldn't have followed Pansy's advice on dresses, because her fur coat wasn't really helping at all. And stupid Malfoy had to go ruin her mood... 

She still couldn't understand why Draco-er-Malfoy went to her flat looking for Pansy, and why he was ranting about soon-to-be Aurors, but now that she thought of it, maybe he was to be an Auror. He was, after all, a member of the Order (despite protests from other members), and essentially one of the reasons of Voldemort's downfall as a spy alongside Severus Snape. He of all people is a most effective Auror. But not everyone noticed the logic behind it for she, Harry and Ron were expected and anticipated to be Aurors, not Draco Malfoy, who belonged to a family that were long rumored to be inclined in performing Dark Arts. But then, if he was to be an Auror, what about his job? Oh yeah, Lucius Malfoy just fired him, but would the senior Malfoy really do that? Fire his son? And would Draco take up to the idea of protecting those people who once loathed him just because of his surname?

It was all too confusing for one sensible Hermione Granger, and she realized that whatever he wanted to do with his life or whatever became of him wasn't really her problem.

But still...

Seven forty-three.

Hermione waited patiently for the carriage to arrive, and truth be told, she felt really cold. Well, who wouldn't when you're sitting in the street on a cold, winter night? The warming charm on the bench isn't really that effective since it was out exposed in the chill air, but she went through that because she knew that the carriage would arrive soon. She thought it was modest to wait for the coachman instead of apparating a while ago, because she didn't want to have the coachman be reprimanded by Blaise. But now she was starting to regret that decision.

Seven forty-five.

Hermione turned slightly and began to search for any sign of a carriage, but still there was none. Where was Blaise's coach? Niveus Estage wasn't that difficult to find, and honestly, the name was practically connected with her, just like Harry and Grimmauld Place, Weasleys and the Burrow, Zabinis and The Mansion, and Malfoys and The Manor...

Seven fifty.

Hermione wondered why Pansy told Draco to fetch her in her house. The Slytherin never mentioned, even in a joke, that she'd drop by her flat after she finished glamouring up for the Yearend Ball... Maybe she was planning... To surprise her? But what for?

Her thoughts were cut off as she heard the faint footfalls of a horse and the wheels of a rushing carriage turning and hitting the pavement, and she stood up and fixed herself. The carriage stopped in front of her and as she looked on excitedly, she found out that it wasn't what she was waiting for.

In fact, it was what she dreaded for.

The all-too-familiar blonde head poked out of the window. "Hop in, Granger."

"Now why would I?" She spat out defiantly. After hurting her, harassing her and trespassing in her house, the git was going to resort to kidnapping?

"Just hop in, Granger." His tone was insistent.

"No!"

"You've got no choice, Gryffindor."

"Of course I have! Blaise's carriage"

"Wouldn't arrive. So better climb in." Draco finished for her. "Merlin's bathrobe, you're freezing cold, your eyes are turning white from waiting, and you even forgot to retrieve your precious wand from me! What is the world coming to?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort and tell him how wrong he was that he had her wand, that she had it tucked securely in her lengthy gloves and could proudly hex him with it at the moment, but she felt that it was no use reaching for her wand because she saw it being twirled between his fingers and being waved at her as if to taunt her. "Give me my wand back."

"Get in and then I'll give you your wand."

"Hell no! I am not going to ride your, your, disgusting carriage! And I'm perfectly fine!"

"Perfectly fine. Yes, tell that to the house elves." He scoffed. "I was thinking you'd finally gain some semblance of reason and swallow your humungous Gryffindor honor and get your cute little arse in here and plan devious revenge with me because some prats see us as completely daft. And might I add, if you're aiming for the blue fairy look, then let me commend you because you have successfully turned your dainty muggle toenails into a lovely shade of blue. I think you have the climate to thank for that."

Daft? Revenge? "I have no idea as to what you're prattling about, Malfoy, and if I had known better:you: are the prat that think me as daft." Hermione crossed her arms in defiance.

"Granger," Draco almost whined. It irked him, truthfully, that the know-it-all Gryffindor couldn't, for the love of Merlin, figure out the scheme. Was her sensible mind muddled by some foreign body? "Haven't you figured it out?"

"What's there to figure out? That you are a complete wanker? That you practically committed three crimes in less than an hour? Or that you're here to kidnap me and offer me as a virgin sacrifice to the next Dark Lord for the conception of his underlings and the culmination of his carefully planned-out rise to evil-dom?" She spat out angrily.

"No, Hermione." He protested, though he could very well envision himself as the rising (but hopefully not) Dark Lord if that was what she wanted... He shook his head, trying to clear the mental image. "Blaise told you he'd send his coach to fetch you."

"And so? What is it to you?" She tapped her foot in front of her impatiently.

"Pansy requested that I fetch her in your flat. :Your: flat, but she is not here."

She nodded her head stiffly, though she still didn't see the logic behind it. What was he expecting, that she would willingly and easily understand him? That his fabrication would fix everything? As if it seems everyone would want to believe him anyways...

Draco stared at her eagerly, but her body language told him clearly that she wasn't in the least bit inclined to believing him.

"Do you expect me to believe you?" She turned her eyes to look at him, flashing and furious.

He shook his head. "You've no choice but to do so."

It irritated her that with her unyielding stance, he wasn't deterred in his lie even in the slightest. The dolt was all smiles! "You're impossible." Hermione huffed.

He looked at her, contemplating whether to be angry or not at her words, before retorting. "Suit yourself, then. No wand, no ride, no Blaise." Draco smiled smugly and moved away from the window as the carriage began to move. She was being difficult, and he wanted more than to spill the beans and let her know about it, and, if allowed, grab the opportunity.

But if she acted that way, then that would mean there is nothing left to fix, and nowhere left to pick up on._ 'If that is what she wants, then so be it...' _She'd have to figure this whole situation on her own, then.

She glared at the snow-covered pavement and sat down ungracefully on the bench again. _'Of all the nerve...!'_ The sound of the horses scurrying away from her told her that Malfoy would no longer bother her, that she wouldn't have her conflicting feelings confuse her again, that she wouldn't have to tolerate his presence anymore...

But there'd be no one to blame her forbidden thoughts on, no one to curse when in a fork on the road, no one to have an intelligent enough conversation with, no one to think of when left alone with her thoughts, no other person to look for in the crowd, no other man to make her feel beautiful, no one else to make her feel loved...

... And she wouldn't get her precious wand back.

Hermione sprung from her seat and gazed at the carriage that seemed to drift farther and farther at a fast rate. "Malfoy! Malfoy! Malfoy, wait!" She shouted; her voice edged with urgency. She ran after the coach helplessly. "Malfoy! Wait a bloody minute, Malouch!"

The carriage stopped and its occupant stepped out, and Hermione teetered towards Draco with a painful ankle. "Bloody hell, I told you to stop!"

Draco watched Hermione with a satisfied smirk as she hobbled towards him. "Well? I did." His lips quirked uncontrollably. "Why Granger," he drawled out when he saw her grasping her wrist tighter. "I didn't know you were a masochist of decadence."

"You think it's amusing, don't you?" Hermione gritted out as she came near him.

He shrugged nonchalantly, wiggled his eyebrows knowingly and turned back to his carriage, not even bothering to look if she was following him.

A stray white object fell softly against Draco's immaculate black robes, stopping him from stepping in the Brougham. He eyed it skeptically. "It's snowing."

"Malfoy! Come over here, you prat, and be a gentleman for once!" Hermione imposed, or tried to impose in her less-than-capable-to-walk state.

When Draco turned around again her breath hitched. The few snowflakes that fell around him made him look all the more endearing, and his blue-rimmed silver-grey eyes seemed to have shed off its barrier. Hermione had never seen him look at her that way; it made her feel queasy. But she did have an inkling as to what it was. It was akin to something she saw that flickered in his eyes while they... Shagged... As if he poured out all of his emotions with that act of coupling; as if he loved her... As if what they were doing at that time was something that conveyed more than just hormones and pent-up desires and pleasure... Like they weren't just rabbits in heat and seeking release but two people who shared the same concern for each other's welfare and making love...

And for the second time in a month she felt once more how it was like to be the latest, most-sought for and best broomstick on display at QQS.

He walked towards her and gazed at her intently, and then his hands reached out to brush a stray snow that landed on the tip of her nose. "Hermione, your eyes have the most peculiar shade of brown."

Whether that was meant to be taken as an insult or a compliment Hermione didn't know; she didn't want to know. But his stare was starting to make her uneasy. "That has nothing to do with helping me out."

"Hmm... True." Draco retorted, his hand now under his chin, the other supporting the arm that was connected to the other hand. "But that doesn't mean it is not worth mentioning, now does it?"

She couldn't help but avert her gaze from his. "Well if you're going to help, then do so." Hermione mumbled faintly while finding interest at the little white puffs her breath produced.

He felt a surge of happiness overcome his senses. Maybe this Gryffindor-like plan that his childhood friends laid out wasn't so bad after all. "But do enlighten me, miss. Did my sensible Gryffindor come back?"

She couldn't help but go red at his words. Proprietary at once, not even sure of it...! "I... I never went away... I was alwaysStop talking in circles, Draco! My ankle is hurting!"

He couldn't resist just pushing her buttons. "You're still beautiful when you're angry and aggravated, did you know?"

Her blush only deepened. "Malfoy..."

"... And when you blush too. I still couldn't understand why Potty and Weasel never saw that in you. Especially Weasel, since he preferred your regular succession of rows than giving compliments. Maybe they were too busy looking out for themselves... Or maybe Potter might need another set of spectacles... And Weasley should ask for Potter's old glasses, too. What with his pocket always empty."

"It's not like that..." She couldn't help but get irked. His words may be true to some extent, but Ron and Harry were still her friends, and he has no right to make fun of them... Hermione risked a look at his face and she stared. In place of the childish, pointy-faced, sneering eleven-year-old boy she knew, in front of her was a mature, elegant and drop-dead gorgeous eighteen-year-old young man. His face was every bit honest and sincere, and his eyes softened considerably, turning into an interesting swirl of silver and blue. Draco Malfoy looked so open, so vulnerable... But it immediately changed into a smirk.

"So, did the brain of our clever former Head Girl finally get to comprehend the intelligent former Head Boy's deduction?"

Hermione's perfectly curved eyebrow shot up. "Understand what?"

"Ah," Draco reached out his hand to hold her elbow lightly. "There are numerous things to consider regarding that question, Miss Granger. One," he held up his right index finger, "if she finally realized how everything tonight was just a very un-Slytherin plan of two supposed-to-be-devious ex-Slytherins that the handsome former Head Boy had not a hand in doing so." His middle finger followed his index's lead. "Two, if she came into terms with her feelings regarding everything and everyone around her," his ring finger, "three, if she would willingly admit that the blonde, dashing, extremely good-looking young man before her rocks her socks..."

"All right, all right, I get it!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Blaise and Pansy are going to get it, I swear it upon, upon..."

"Upon the grave of Salazar Slytherin?" He offered.

Her eyes met his laughing ones. "Well, that, and Godric Gryffindor's and Rowena Ravenclaw's and Helga Hufflepuff's!"

"I thought so too." Draco nodded comprehendingly, convinced that it wouldn't bode well if it was only Slytherin that the two of them would have rolling in their graves. Fair treatment should be given to the Founders. Equality was one of the most precious lessons that the institution taught them. "But as to the second and third assumption?"

Hermione's right eyebrow rose as she smiled. "You are so... So full of yourself, did you know that?"

"Why yes. My Mother and Father made it a point to drill it in my brain every meal. Brilliant observation, Miss Granger."

"Thought so."

"Yes, brilliant indeed, but admit it, Hermione. You find me attractive. More than that load of a Quidditch bloke who always mispronounces your name, or the two arseholes," at Hermione's look of disdain, he paraphrased. "Or your two knights in shining armor that rode away to some Wizarding Hell and left you alone to fend for yourself." He finished, looking down at her through his aristocratic nose a power tactic.

She huffed, her breath turning into mist in front of her and clouding her vision. What was the use denying? Admitting that he was good-looking wasn't synonymous to saying she wanted him. It wasn't even an indication of defeat; in fact it would just be like stating facts. There really is nothing wrong with that... Well, except boosting and stoking his already huge male ego.

"Well?" She saw, rather than heard, Draco make out the words as he gazed at her eagerly.

"Fine! You're good-looking! And yes, I think I have it figured out now! There, happy?" She stared at him pointedly, observing his expression as it changed from a self-satisfied smirk into an I-told-you-so look. "And don't you dare tell me 'I told you so!'"

He gazed at her for a long moment, seeing her glowing face just about to explode, before shrugging and turning his lips into a knowing, lopsided grin. "I told you so."

If Hermione was red from pain or embarrassment a while ago, it was transformed immediately into anger. "Argh! You... You...!" She balled her fists in indignation. "You arrogant, bigoted, conceited, deranged, enigmatic, foul, grouchy, hedonistic, insufferable"

"Shut up, Granger." Draco grabbed her violently, crushed her body against his and closed the distance between them, smothering her words with his lips on hers.

The snowflakes kept on drifting softly around them.

* * *

»Some Additional Notes« 

"_Nothing." 'Nothing you won't be able to figure out yourself.'_ - Kaho Mizuki, Card Captor Sakura, _Sakura and the Tree of Memories_. Very enigmatic character, if I may say.

"Forget that girl and get a life." - Bartok, from Anastasia. I simply find these Disney movies fascinating, and the fallen Romanovs really interest me, but that's irrelevant.

Okay, so that wasn't such a nice place to cut the first part, but anyways…

swtdohtee – Pinay? Yeah, _nabaanggit mo_… in your bio… Nyahaha. I kind of lurk around, you know, and check out everyone's bio… Hehehe. No really, you think it's nice? I mean, my fic? Because I find it hard to believe when after almost a month it seems like no one really appreciates what I write… :sighs: _Haaay, ganyan talaga ang buhay_… Ces't la vie… Thank you for :always: being supportive. Really.

DracoDraconis – haha, I know it might sound too overconfident (notice the intended redundancy there) of me, but…. :wails: I think I really :am: unloved! But it really is nice to know that there are those few who find my story still nice… And it really is touching to know that… Gives purpose and inspiration, that they do… And you reviewed TWICE! Thank you! I feel soooo loved because of you! 'Said great too much…' Nah, that's okay, I do that all the time. Lol

Venus725 – Of course I'll continue it! I can't just leave it there now, can I? This is my only achievement ever… Having at least decent skills in writing… So I couldn't very well stop doing it… Ha-ha. I was getting carried away again. Yeah, the Erised thing was very hard to incorporate, really, and I could say the same with Dumbledore… In fact it was just before I posted the chapter in the net that I thought of that… Thanks for the review, btw.

Kace08 – let me guess… You won't be biting my head off anymore because of this chapter, right? RIGHT:brings out wand: Imperio! You won't bite my head off… Hahaha that was lame of me… The snow globe? Hmmm… Maybe, maybe not… I don't actually know…

RahNee – I really did a good job on that smut? Wow that's a monumental achievement! See that smile? Reading it made my smile that huge… And yes, it was both their first times! It's just that it's kind of abused rhetoric when Draco is this 'sex god' of Slytherin and of Hogwarts. Well, I won't deny the fact that I practically drool when I read some fics with him as such (I mean, who wouldn't?), but I wanted something that would not be so, well, how do I say this… Uhm, unrealistic? I'm really under the impression that teenagers have not enough carnal knowledge to perform sex that well; I think they're just in for the "sex" thing, not the "pleasure" or quality of the activity itself… Uhm, gah, I just babbled. Sorry about that. And yes, Harry and Ron definitely saw the light…

Carly – thank you!

DarkSeductress – enthralling? Wow. I just hope I did meet with your expectations with this post… Thanks for the review!

DizzyDawn007 – well here's the update! Uhm, do you think they're together now:winks:

Kalystia – why thank you:hugs: And it's nice to read your review too! It sounded so sincere, really! Short but sincere!

Tonimarie – here's the update! Wait, wait… Your name's just like my friends… Is it rude if I asked you where you're from? thanks again!

Breanna Senese – 'I loved how you changed Draco, but made him exactly the same as he always was!' Whoa. I'm a bit overwhelmed by that remark… Was my Drakie-poo OOC? (Well, my characters :always: are, but still…) Is that a good thing?

Another thing, I'm currently trying to finish a one-shot that I will be including in a four-part series called _Les __Saisons Eternelles_ or The Undying Seasons (I'm not adept in French, but I think that's right). I'm hoping to have it out before my birthday this April, since I consider it as a birthday present for myself. And here's a snippet, so please tell me if I should continue…

* * *

_Draco Malfoy never liked the rain._

_In fact, as much as possible, he avoided any contact with those bloody water droplets from the sky. Not only did it ruin his impeccable robes, or made his extremely sexy platinum blond hair stick out in different directions (as he wasn't keen to becoming a blond Harry Potter), or make his shiny black boots muddied, he hated it simply because it was rain. Of course, rain always meant that he could not very well go out of the Hogwarts castle, or practice flying at the Quidditch Field, or play pranks at the ickle first years that would be brazened enough to even look him in the eye, or go to Hogsmeade on a rainy Hogsmeade weekend. The list could go on forever; how he hated rain, that is._

_But what he particularly did not like with the rain was the fact that it made him feel nostalgic and melancholic, something he, as a Malfoy, should never feel. But every time he would hear the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof, or its light drizzle knocking on the glass of the huge windows, or it streaming at a steady rate and hitting the earth, it made him sink in depression._

_What he couldn't bring himself to admit was that he associated the rain with despair, like the heavens were crying. And it always reminded him of how lonely he was. Sure, he would be smirking and going around painting Hogwarts red, wreaking havoc, and practically wearing a don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-fuck-your-life-up signboard complete with neon green letters and spotlights, but underneath that facade there would still be the anxieties, insecurities and problems of a normal, angst-ridden teenage boy; even if he was :the: Draco Malfoy. _

Hermione stared at the pouring rain resignedly.

_She really wasn't expecting the rain. Not that she hated it or anything; in fact, she loved the rain. The moistened, glistening view it always gave her, the sound of it hitting the pavement, the grounds, the roof and the windows, the damp smell of the plants and flowers lingering after the shower, and of course, the beautiful arc-en-ciel it left on its wake. It looked like the heavens were bathing the earth clean. When she was small she would always go out and savor the water drops as they hit her skin, and she would sometimes bathe in it; sometimes she even imagined the raindrops as different kinds of sweets that she would open her mouth and swallow them. The list could go on forever; how she loved the rain, that is._

* * *

Tell me what you think, and please review! The next chapter would be the very, very last one. Promise. Oh and let me apologize if a lot of punctuation marks screwed up big time. It's not my fault, I did my best to edit everything. Gah. 

Comme Toujours!

Melissa Spitfire

Tell me what you think, and please review! The next chapter would be the very, very last one. Promise. Oh and let me apologize if a lot of punctuation marks screwed up big time. It's not my fault, I did my best to edit everything. Gah. 


	11. Finale 2: Dare To Move

Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me:grins sheepishly:

+

Just to let you know, I'll be editing this again (again, if you're interested, that is) and I''ll be removing the song lyrics because I don't want this to be REMOVED from the site without even the administrators REMINDING me… It happened to a lot of people already, and I wouldn't want to be an unfortunate victim, so… There.

Oh, and before anything else, the review responses: (Skip the others if it isn't you, skip the whole thing if you haven't reviewed, but thanks anyway if you read this without even reviewing… )

DracoDraconis – here it is! Thanks for being diligent in reviewing, we all know it's what gets the authors writing.

Venus725 – 'word usage… great…' thank you! I was afraid that Draco would be a tad talkative than what I intended him to be, but, well, he _is_ talkative in the first place. As to my one shot, well, I haven't finished it yet. In fact I haven't TOUCHED it because work, school and RL demands a lot from me! It's depressing, really, because I thought I could finish that before my birthday, and yet it's already mid-May, and it hasn't even progressed! And also because I'm participating in the Spring Forward with Draco and Hermione Fic Exchange at lj dot com, I have a lot of things in my mind… And believe me, I was about to use that snippet in the fic but I decided not to.

Swtdohtee – _bruha ka rin!_ I'm guessing you're furious that it took another month for me to update? Well, see… RL is such a drag. And to think I'm already neglecting my social life just to be able to juggle all my responsibilities…! Neweiz, yep, been touring the country these past months. It's my course requirement, and I've been to the mountains and the hills and everywhere, and Hong Kong night bazaars, and of course, I had such a great time. But my parents didn't, because I spent more or less fifty thousand already just for that. And well, given the fiscal crisis here… I reckon I'd be reduced to writing using paper and pen again, because I have not enough money to have my PDA repaired.

… Such a drag, noh? But still, that's life, and I have to continue living so I could go to London and study at Oxford… Bleh. Like, that's so impossible. I don't even know what would become of me after graduation! All I had planned for my life is to get out of the country after graduating and going on tou around the world and of course, going to London; and I'm going to study _Fisheries_ there because I want to meet Tom Felton in person. Talk about obsessed…

Blah. I just babbled. Ignore me. But still, thanks for sticking with me on this one!

xOxOkIsSmYaSsXoXo – I think this is a better ending than my first draft so I hope I meet your expectations… thanks!

Breanna Senese – again, I'm flattered. That's an achievement for me! As for the one-shot, I guess I'll finish that after I'm done with the fic request I got in the dmhgficexchange. But I'd definitely get back on that one, because I thought it was good, too.

HogwartzBoizRHottiez – here's the drama! … Err, I think…

Kace08 – well, this is it. Thank you for being such a sweet reviewer, even if I feel threatened by your reviews sometimes… But all the same… Thankies!

Folinswit10 – I'll try to complete that snippet before summer in the temperate zones begin. It's summer here right now, and it's damn hot, so… I don't see the connection to the fic, did you see one? ; Sorry, I'm really very bothered by this hotter-than-usual temp here right now… Thanks again!

Sunny June 46 – no, I really don't think that Harry and Ron are selfish, that's why I wrote this last bit. And yes, I really do think this is how Hermione feels, and these feelings, sad to say, is what JKR fails to show us. But I understand that the HP series _is_ about Harry, not Hermione, or Dumbledore, but _his_ adventures… Or misadventures… Yep, I just saw Anastasia the other night in Disney channel but I know now that it's not a Disney flick. Though I'm still wondering why they aired it on Disney Channel… Nonetheless, thank you for being honest about this fic, and I assure you that I'm _eternally_ grateful to you because you took time to review.

ToniMarie – where from the Philippines? _Malay mo magkakilala pala tayo di lang natin alam_.

Sunflower18 – here it is! ;;;;;;;;;

Bellacarestia – 'Draco… somehow odd but somewhat in character…' lol. I liked it too, though I think I made him too fickle-minded about it. But oh well, I'm human, he's human (supposed to be) and humans are, by nature, fickle and selfish so…

Ginny – _hala! Hala! Hala!_

Clarine Dreamweaver – hah! I know you! And that was my former email add:sniggers slightly: _Galing ko ba?_ Hey, I can't seem to contact you, you have to do your _kastigador_ duties to my dmhgficexchange request! And I already have another draft, you have to check it out.

GoThiCrAvEn15 – no, Ginny's real name is Ginevra, I'm quite sure. It's Ginevra Molly Weasley, just to let you know…. Thanks for taking time to review and notice this! At least I have proof that you really have read through it!

* * *

_Finale Part 2: Dare to Move_

Her eyes widened when Draco's lips met hers. Why, the nerve of him! Did he think that kissing her would make her stop hating him? Hermione looked at Draco, and somehow she wasn't surprised to see him staring intensely at her. His eyes were hypnotizing, and she couldn't help but be drawn into those deep mercury orbs...

Her eyelids fluttered close as she leaned in and her body succumbed to his kiss.

Draco couldn't help but smile against her lips as he pulled her closer and closed his eyes. So maybe after everything that happened, he finally found his happiness... Maybe somebody above loves him despite being a sodding prick towards her all these years...

"Mmmmmph!" Hermione pulled away from the kiss, her nerves frazzled. She could feel her body shivering, and she just hoped it was because of the snow around them._ 'What the...' _She thought, and without preamble, she pulled out of his arms and turned to climb the carriage. She heard Draco whisper her name when she extricated herself from his grasp, but she didn't turn or do anything to show him that she heard. She was still wrapped up about the kiss.

That kiss... How could it just make her world tilt like it was the most normal thing to happen? And why does it suddenly feel very cold, much colder than when she was outside?

It wasn't something she wanted to dwell upon for a long time, because frankly there are still many things she had to think about. So she settled on removing her blasted stilettos and placing it on the floor of the vehicle. Double payback for Pansy, for setting them up :and: for making her wear such a goddamned pair of shoes.

Draco blinked rapidly and almost groaned at the loss of contact. "Hermione..." He whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers. How can a kiss be that exhilarating? But of course, it wasn't just a kiss. It was Hermione. And everything Hermione would not just be mediocre, no sir. She was his...

His eyebrows creased as Hermione pulled away. What did he do wrong this time? "Hermione?" He whispered. His eyes followed her movements and he couldn't help but smile when she climbed into his waiting carriage. He shook his head good-naturedly, before getting in himself.

* * *

Blaise and Pansy stepped into the ballroom and were immediately greeted by Vincent Crabbe, who somehow felt relieved to see them after getting away from a sickly sweet Millicent and Gregory, and so did the rest of the former Slytherins. The usual greetings and talks about their latest goings-on and activities ensued, and how they all fared after Hogwarts, and all the plans they were to do in the future. 

Not long into the beginning of the conversation, when they were talking about their Hogwarts days, Blaise caught a certain pair of pale blue eyes watching them, and its owner slowly making his way towards their group, stopping occasionally to greet people but never removing his stare on them. He nudged his date discretely and whispered. "Pansy..."

"I saw him, Blaise." Pansy retorted with the same smile directed to Avery Nott as he retold the Quidditch match they had against Ravenclaw in Sixth year. "I can practically smell the smoke coming from his nose."

"Really?" Blaise replied from behind his goblet as he tightened his left arm around her waist. "Good thing Daphne and Tracey are here, at least someone would look over your Father's apoplexy." He downed the wine in his goblet and slammed it down the table behind him.

"Don't you think we should, you know, have a little mercy? He is, after all, my Father." Pansy glanced at Vincent out of the corner of her eye for a moment, and then darted around to look for her Mother. She only saw Raphael Zabini smirking in their direction, and she offered him a faint smile before fixing her eyes somewhere else.

Blaise shrugged. "Let's just settle for seizures, then."

"Fine, as long as it wouldn't kill-- Blaise!" She squeaked his name as Blaise dipped her, his arms supporting her as he hovered above her.

"Showtime." He whispered when his face was just inches from hers, his mischievous emerald green eyes dancing and prodding her sapphire orbs, before crushing his lips against hers.

The whole ballroom that earlier suffered a surprise when Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy walked in burst into another fit of gasps and clattering utensils and became dead silent afterwards.

Francis Parkinson got acquainted with the marble floor.

* * *

The ride to the Ministry was silent, save for the occasional sighs of Hermione and Draco's clearing of throat. Other than that, no other words were exchanged between them. 

Hermione still couldn't believe the fact that Blaise Zabini, famous Slytherin bastard next to Draco Malfoy, just played her in his hands. After all the hospitality and friendship she offered him, he would just willingly play the lurid role of a matchmaker along with Pansy Parkinson?

And Pansy, that evil, little tart... She led her to believe that she was only helping her like a... A girl friend... Bringing along Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy in her Christmas Eve celebration, accompanying her in Hogsmeade and helping her choose her attire that would set her differently from the usual Hermione Granger... And all the while she was trying to hook her up with Draco Malfoy!

Well truthfully, bringing Draco along that Christmas Eve was an underlying message in her postscript, because he was such an enigma that her curious mind wanted to figure out. And the Hogsmeade trip... She just thought that maybe Draco would come along... And the clothes, well, she did want to look different not just for a change, but for him to notice... And besides, there're certain feelings that just spring to life whenever he was around, or when there were things around that had something to do with him...

So it wasn't really a bad thing, now was it?

But still...

The carriage slowed and she was brought out of her musings when Draco moved from his comfortable recline. Well, surely the Ministry and the whole of Wizarding London would be having a coronary when they see this, and Rita Skeeter would be making a big fuzz about their arrival. Oh well...

Her eyes widened when she felt Draco's lips brush ever so softly against hers, and before she could even react, he already drew back, smirking. It was infuriating, but amazingly she couldn't move.

"A kiss for good luck... Although I reckon I don't need it." He drawled out, his thumb grazing her lips, and then his hand curled slightly as it brushed her cheek, then traced her jaw, crawling down her neck. Upon encountering the sliver of silver on her clavicle, he used his fingers to follow the necklace down to her pendant that hung dangerously low, nestled just at her cleavage. When he held it, he lifted it and kissed it, before dropping it back and stepping out of the vehicle.

A vein throbbed uncontrollably on Hermione's temple.

* * *

Draco stepped out into the night and onto the red carpet, the patented Malfoy smirk on his face. He was sure that the press would be using up most of the rolls of their film with his arrival that was never optional then. All the more reasons now that his companion -- he still couldn't call her his date for the Ball -- was someone never in their lives would they all imagine be turning up with him. Surely everyone was expecting Pansy Parkinson to be his date, but with the scheming twit and the bloody sodding git's plan, everyone would go bonkers. He silently congratulated himself for it. Why, the Malfoy Ancestors would be proud when they hear of this!

... Or not so much, since their most dashing and good-looking heir (if they'd ever get over the fact that he is the most handsome of them all) was with a filthy little mud-muggleborn that they loathed. But really, that rhetoric had been abused as an excuse for centuries and it was something of the old school.

His head turned back to his carriage and he held out his hand to help Hermione out of the vehicle. Yes, the perfect gentleman. Just like she wanted.

But all he got were an angry shove and a thoroughly pissed Hermione climbing out of the vehicle on her own.

A vein popped out ominously at his temple and a pale eyebrow twitched when he heard an audible gasp from one of the members of the meddling press.

"Granger!" Draco grabbed her arm and hissed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh nothing. Just :you:." Hermione glared at him and wriggled out of his grasp before striding away.

"Granger! Hermione!" He called her, shouting amidst the snaps and flashing lights and microphones being held out to them.

She merely strode down the red carpet, unmindful of the press and a very furious Draco Malfoy behind her. Why, the insufferable prat was overconfident! One kiss didn't make things right! He didn't even ask permission! And he never even said what she wanted to hear!

"Granger! Hermione! Wait a bloody minute!" He was fighting the urge to 'Stupefy' her, but she wouldn't stop! "What the hell is wrong with you!" He repeated as he pushed the glass doors of the Ministry as it closed in at him.

"Bloody arsehole... Sodding git... Insufferable prat... Insensitive prick..." Hermione muttered angrily as she simply walked on, her strides not wavering as she pushed open doors after doors that would eventually lead them to the ballroom.

The wizarding press was hot on the heels of the two, clicking away and rushing madly to follow them.

"What did I do wrong this time, huh?" He continued. "Is this about earlier this evening? Haven't I apologized? Haven't I made it clear that it was not intentional? Hermione? Hermione!" He looked around as he lost her, but then he saw a swish of black turn a corner and he soon followed. She should just cut the chase because they have to settle this:this, like the adults they were, the press and everyone else could go fuck off a lamp post, the bloody wankers that they are, damned and be damned. "You're acting like a... Hermione, if you wanted your bloody wand you could have just... Fine!"

Hermione stopped when she reached the double doors of the ballroom and turned when she heard the finality in his voice. "Fine what?"

"Damn it, woman!" Draco shouted, his voice rebounding through the walls. He could vaguely hear the sound of merriment just beyond the door and the ecstatic press behind them. "I have no idea why you're suddenly acting like a... Stop making those bloody clicking noises!" He shouted venomously at the nearest photographer, who shook visibly in fright, before turning his attention to Hermione again. "One time you're asking me to be a gentleman and help you and now that I :am: acting like one, you go act like a twit! Don't I at least deserve something much more better than that!" He was red from anger. His patience had long snapped; it wasn't even his virtue even when he was still young. "What else do I have to tell you, huh? Can't you at least use your quick-witted brain to analyze something as simple as..." He stopped. Surely something this intense wasn't plain and simple. It took him three bloody years to realize it.

But was it really that hard to figure out? Surely someone as smart as Hermione would be able to decipher something so profound... But don't the smart ones go nutters when...

Well, so much for that. It was immaterial to the subject... "Can you not understand, Granger? I didn't plot revenge for you when you slapped me in third year, I warned you in the World Cup our fourth year, made peace with you in sixth year and joined the DA to help your cause, I stopped calling you mud... That disgusting name!

"I've followed you since we went out of Hogwarts, acted like Sherlock Holmes and sneaked around just to make sure you're doing fine, succumbed into my unbidden desires when I helped you, I readily gave up my position in the company because I wanted to fix this... This..." He gestured between them, suddenly at a loss of words. "... Situation between us, and now that Blaise and Pansy schemed a very lowly Slytherin scheme, you just make their efforts go into dumps? Fuck, Hermione! Weren't you the one who lived to make people happy? Wasn't it in your noble objective to make the people around you experience and feel what happiness is all about? Now I'm giving you a chance to be happy yet you're still into your stupidly altruistic deeds? Where in seven bloody hells did all that self-sacrificial part of yours go now, huh?" Draco stopped and ran a gloved hand through his fringes. "Damn it, what else do you want me to do?"

Hermione stared. And stared. And stared... Was it possible for Draco to go rambling like that...? And his deeds, she couldn't... Was it really possible...?_'Too much information, too much information!'_ Her mind felt like exploding.

"I think I'm going to resort to something drastic, Hermione. I'm sick and tired of doing everything! I thought you were smart enough to understand this, but no, you just tend to brush it all away and act like bloody nothing happened because you think you're being unfair to your friends, your family, and everyone around you! Well if you care about other people so much, why don't you consider now how :I: am feeling!"

Hermione felt for the doorknob behind her and turned around when she heard it click, and then rushed in to the bright ballroom.

"Hermione, fuck it, woman! Get back here! No one walks away from a Malfoy when he speaks!"

* * *

The sound of the orchestra droned on and about but it didn't prevent the occupants of the room from noticing as some of them stopped and a few of the people dressed in elegant dress robes stared at the two people who just entered.

Ron turned to meet Harry's eyes as he heard a masculine voice shout their friend's name. Why, that voice sounds awfully familiar... The two walked towards the sound of the commotion and courteously made their way towards it, and what they saw before their eyes made them blink a few times.

"H-Hermione?" Harry cried out when he saw Hermione, her arms being held roughly by... Malfoy?

"Harry! Harry?" Hermione asked. "Ron! Why are you two here?"

"Don't touch her!" Ron immediately pushed Draco and flung his body in between Hermione and Draco. "Leave her alone!"

"This isn't you business, Weasel."

"The hell it is! Hermione's our friend, so go shag a podium and leave her alone!"

Collective gasp.

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "Leave her alone? Why, would the two of you protect her against me?"

"Sod off, Malfoy." Came Harry's stony voice.

"Oh, yes. Potter and Weasley. I can say you two still haven't changed a bit."

"Same as you. Still the bloody annoying and poncy git you are." Ron retorted as he brandished out his wand.

"Any brighter insults, freckle-face? They're running tired..." Draco smirked, which irritated Ron and Harry all the more.

Harry drew out his wand from his wand pocket, their present for Hermione grasped cautiously on his left as he stepped up beside Hermione. "GO AWAY, MALFOY."

"Ron, Harry, stop it..." Hermione protested. The telltale red ears of Ron and the all-caps-locky voice of Harry were always synonymous to nothing good.

"No way, Hermione. He's... He's harassing you!" Ron reasoned, gripping his wand tighter.

"I can handle this."

"No you can't, Hermione! We'll take care of this-"

"I said, I can handle this." Hermione gritted while squeezing Ron's arm unpleasantly, before she stepped away from behind Ron and stood face to face, or face to chest, with Draco. Why was she so small again all of a sudden? Just back at Niveus Estage she reached up to his neck at least...

"But Hermione..." Harry intercepted.

"Shush, Harry!" She looked over her shoulder at her two best friends and glared, before turning to face the blonde, condescending and slightly hovering figure of the bane of her existence... :Former: bane. Why did he have to be so tall all of a sudden...?

And as if reading her mind, or pointing out the obvious, Harry spoke. "But you're bare-footed, Hermione."

"What? Oh." She looked down at her feet and true enough, she was bare-footed, with her stilettos dangling, one each, from her hands.

* * *

"And so goes the animosity of those four." Daphne Greengrass commented dryly as she waved her hand in the air exasperatedly. 

"Yeah. Only we aren't with Draco." Vincent mumbled as he met Gregory's eyes.

"Honestly, we've all grown up, but they're still acting like the prats they were." Millicent added.

"We can't blame them, though. Malfoy and Gryffindors just don't mix." Gregory asserted from beside Millicent.

He didn't see Pansy snort into her wine glass.

"Interesting... Hmmm... Ten galleons into Weasley getting a black eye after this evening." Theodore Nott placed his glass on the table behind him and eyed what was transpiring at the other side of the room.

"Twenty-five for Malfoy and Weasley and Potter hurtling hexes and jinxes at each other and ending up in the Ministry temporary cells later." Adrian Pucey challenged.

Blaise sniggered silently beside Pansy, who avidly watched the four.

"I say fifty galleons for Weasley, Potter and Malfoy to end up shagging like a threesome later," Marcus Flint laughed out boisterously.

Pansy laughed along, her high-pitched voice floating like Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode's and Tracey Davis', and so did the other Slytherins.

"I say a hundred," Blaise broke the chuckle of his former housemates, "that Weasley would get a dose of that deadly stiletto on Granger's hand, Potter would wave his wand and throw a spell towards not Malfoy but Weasley, and Granger would kiss Malfoy." He smirked as he raised his goblet to his mouth. He could see the skeptical expressions on his housemates' faces. "Well?"

"You're on!"

* * *

Remus Lupin made his way to the small group of people gathering near the door, and somehow he wasn't perturbed when he saw Harry, Ron and Malfoy having a confrontation. It seemed like the most normal thing to happen whenever they crossed paths. 

"Good to see things back to normal, isn't it?" A voice said beside him, and he turned to meet a violently fixed and colored hair just beside him.

He acknowledged the younger Auror. "Nymphadora." At the growl of displeasure, Remus amended. "Tonks. Psychedelic Pink again? Glad to see the Black wealth not affecting your tastes."

Tonks shrugged. "Orange was rather tiring, not to mention I look like Arthur Weasley's illegitimate daughter with it." She smiled good-naturedly. "I see Draco Malfoy's being the same sodding git again. Remembered when I was training those kids in the DA. Those boys were always involved in squabbles."

Remus looked over at them and saw Hermione glaring over her shoulder at Harry and Ron. "Well, I think it's not just Draco who's at the bad side of Hermione."

"So it is. Do you think it's time we intervene? Wands have been drawn, well, Ron and Harry have."

"I say no. They wouldn't do something as foolish as that here." Remus smiled slightly.

"Hmmm... True. Not Hermione at least." Tonks' lips quivered as she suppressed a smirk. "Though I'm wondering why Hermione went in with my cousin in tow." Tonks mused out loud.

"Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Really." A third voice joined in the conversation.

"Shacklebolt." Remus nodded at the bald man. "I thought you were in Burkina Faso."

"Minister Bones sent Moody instead. Said she had other things for me to do."

"I reckon she'll be having you help the troops in France with Jones." Tonks piped in. "And you'll be surprised who from the Aurors she had planned to send with you." She smiled when she saw Hermione staring at her feet.

"Who?"

"The newest recruit and the young woman who walked in with the newest recruit."

"What?" Remus and Kingsley both asked the still-smiling Tonks.

* * *

Hermione stared at her feet that greatly contrasted the ebony marble of the ballroom floor. So that's why she felt so little when she looked at Draco! 

"Hermione, leave this to us." She heard Ron insisting behind her, and she couldn't help but get furious at him. And Harry. Did they think that it was that easy for them to go back when a stinking pillock muddled everything she had planned out? Why, had they been here in the first place, she would not have encountered Malfoy! He may have just continued following her without her knowledge and should have grown tired after that...

"Reduc—"

"I said leave it to me!" Hermione was so angry that she threw the nearest object she could reach for, or rather, the object in her hand.

The stiletto went flying in the air, hurtling so fast that it hit Ron squarely on the face. "Ow!" He bellowed when the heel of the shoe hit his nose, making him bring up his hands to his abnormally red nose that put his fringes into shame, gasping audibly in the process.

"Ron!" Shouted Harry, who, at Hermione's sudden response, momentarily forgot that he was one of the greatest wizards to ever live. He approached the redhead and lifted his wand to do a healing charm on his friend's nose.

Hermione smirked when she heard her shoe fall down on the carpet with a buffed thunk, satisfied that she hit her target. That will keep Ron and Harry from interfering with her business.

"Mate," Harry whispered as he did the spells. "You should know better not to get into Hermione's bad side! I think it's that time of the month... Or not." He immediately amended when he saw the former Head Girl glaring ominously at him, lifting her other hand that held the other half of the pair.

She glowered at Harry, hand poised to throw the offending and injury-causing shoe. In the back of her mind, she reminded herself to thank Pansy who forced her into wearing the goddamned shoes, but her quick eyes caught the man in front of her sniggering with delight. Her mind suddenly alerted her that she should handle the situation before her.

"And as for you, Malfoy," Her eyes flashed violently when she turned her gaze to him, and her hands that previously intended harm to someone behind her came to point the deadly weapon shoe at Draco. "You bloody wanker, you have no right whatsoever to tell me what to do!

"You really think you know me well, don't you? Well bloody no! Nobody… Not Harry, not Ron, not my parents, or friends... Nobody understands!" Hermione gritted through clenched teeth. "I did not ask for you to act chivalrous, I did not ask for you to stop taunting me. I did not ask you to follow me, hell, I never asked you to give up anything for my sake! I am not :dumb, Draco. And I definitely would not let this opportunity to go to waste!

"You think you're the only one getting tired of this... This situation? I am too! You think it is damn easy to brush off everything that happened between us? You think it's that easy to ignore those... Feelings you evoked from me? It's difficult to struggle between doing what you want and what others want because doing what I want means disappointing everyone around me! Easy for you to say because you've always had that liberty to do as you please." Her hand that held the shoe recoiled slowly before settling on her side and dropping her stiletto on the floor.

The crowd that formed around them stared expectantly at the two of them.

"But..." Hermione started. "Harry, my shoe please." She turned to her best friend.

Harry, who was absorbed and still processing what his closest female friend just said, just looked at Ron quizzically before picking it up and handing Hermione her shoe back.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled. She thought it was about time that she finally admit to something she had long kept from admitting. Hermione Granger have lied a few dozen times in Hogwarts, and to everyone else, too, and did illegal things that would most likely warrant her more than a life sentence in Azkaban, but most of all, she had long been lying to herself. For years, she had told herself that her loved ones' happiness was her happiness; that just the whole world out of the megalomaniacal threat made her feel complete.

However, ever since Draco reentered her life, she learned how to value herself. She learned not to always think of others and what they would say because in the end she would just end up pleasing nobody. She learned that she needed to give herself more credit, to live like a normal human being who craved for someone's caress and affection, something she had had a taste of before care of him, and bloody hell, she could not get enough of. She could feel blood course through her cold veins with his touches and caresses, felt her world tilt on a very non-mediocre axis whenever he spoke, and threw all her prim, straight and tedious ways just like that, without the slightest inhibitions, with his mere presence.

And most of all, he made her feel that she was the most beautiful girl-- no, woman, in the world, even with her muggle background. All because one pureblood Draco Malfoy made her, Hermione Granger above all others, felt loved... An emotion with such intensity that she had never ever, in her whole life experienced and received.

To hell with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, with the Wizarding Press' watchful eye, with Harry and Ron's violent reactions, Neville's traumatizing experiences, Ginny and Luna's and Lavender and Parvati's girl talks, and to hell with everything that restricted her. Their happiness always hindered hers, and it was time she stop leading herself blindly to a faux happiness through others'.

And ultimately, it was time that she think of her happiness and no one else's.

She looked at Draco sharply and took a step towards him, using her toes to drag the stilettos with her. "But..." Her voice dropped in volume. "I think it's time I give myself a shot on true happiness." Hermione smiled shyly as she stood on tiptoes, reached up to pull Draco's face and crushed her lips into his.

* * *

Blaise smirked like there was no tomorrow. "So… When shall I be expecting 300 galleons more in my Gringotts vault, then?" He spoke, referring to Adrian, Marcus and Theodore. 

"You knew all along!" Theodore exclaimed.

"Well you :did: start it." Daphne interjected smilingly.

"Draco Malfoy...? Hermione Granger…?" Gregory mumbled. "Blimey..."

Pansy batted her eyelashes at Blaise. "But Blaise, dear. Shouldn't half of it go into my vault?"

"Oh, but my vault would soon be yours, Pans. Very soon, I believe. But for now," He plucked two goblets from the passing server. "A toast for our success, love." He said as he handed the glass to Pansy.

* * *

Ron stood there, slack-jawed, shocked at what was happening before him. "H-Harry... Malfoy's snogging Hermione...! Aren't we supposed to do something?" 

"No, Ron. Hermione's snogging Malfoy." Harry replied faintly.

"A-And he's groping her!" Ron stuttered when he saw Draco's arms circle Hermione's waist and lift her. "A-And she's loving it!" He continued when Hermione's hand ran through Draco's hair.

Harry stared. Maybe they did neglect her so much. Maybe the Wizarding world did expect too much from her. Knowing her, she'd try to do everything in her powers to meet those expectations, even if it meant sacrificing her own wants. He somehow understood her, since it was what he used to feel when Voldemort was still lurking around when he was the hero; when he :had: to be the hero.

She was there for him and helped him through those times when he felt his angst getting the better off him; when everyone just wouldn't understand, she understood. She stood by him through all the hardships and even the near-death situations, in his silly infatuation with Cho even when she was infatuated with him, and until she finally made him realize how there are many other people who appreciated him and saw him not as Boy-Who-Lived, not as the boy who survived the Avada Kedavra and ended Voldemort's terrorism, but as Harry Potter.

He looked down at his and Ron's present for Hermione and smiled. _'If this makes our Hermione happy, then so be it.'_ He brought out his wand and tapped the globe in his hand gently, and added a fourth animal in it. _'But Malfoy's still an annoying prat.'_ He added semi-darkly. "Hermione's happy, Ron. Let's just try to be happy for her."

"I agree." A deep voice seconded the motion.

Harry and Ron turned their heads to see Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt coming up behind them. "Professor... Professors."

"You know, I almost wanted to petrify my cousin just to try to settle everything. It's a good thing Lupin stopped me, Hermione might have been furious and might have hexed me into oblivion." Tonks looked on.

"But I didn't expect that to happen." Remus laughed as he pointed at the two oblivious people.

Ron scowled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Malfoy has got Hermione under a spell. The git's probably using the last ounce of his magic to get her if that's the case. Bloody arsehole…"

"Ah, but he is using a spell." Remus snickered when he saw Draco pull away from Hermione to gasp for air.

"He is!" Ron turned red, his body growing tense. "Why that—"

"Ron," Tonks approached the ill-tempered Weasley and held him back with the help of Harry. "He's speaking of something else. To quote Albus Dumbledore, 'Love is the last magic everyone can use.'"

Harry smiled at this, remembering the greatest sacrifice his mother did for him— protect him from Voldemort's radical fury—, before releasing a visibly relaxing Ron. "She's happy, Ron. And you've got to give her credit for supporting us all those times. I thought maybe we could start reciprocating that now. And besides, we don't really have to like Mal— RON!"

The redhead walked — more like stalked — towards the two, who were busy making goo-goo eyes at each other and without warning, grabbed an unknowing Malfoy's sleeve, hurled him away from Hermione and dragged him to a corner.

"RON!"

"RON!"

Both Harry and Hermione shouted vehemently, before quickly following their ill-tempered friend.

"Let him go, Ron!" Hermione shouted, suddenly aware that they were attracting unwanted attention from the others in the ballroom. She lowered her voice once she reached them. "Ron! Let him go or I'll hex you…" She trailed off, suddenly realizing that her wand was still in Draco's possession.

"Mate, calm down! We don't have to like him; we just have to be civil wi—"

"Shut it, mate!" Ron spat out over his shoulder, and then turned his stare at Draco. "Malfoy." He growled.

"Weasley." Draco answered testily, his leather-gloved right hand creeping inside his coat and feeling for his wand inconspicuously. "… I know you'd be disappointed by my proclamation, but sadly, I don't swing both sides. Though if I did, I doubt I would even consider you. Redheads aren't really my type." He drawled out, even at the face of threats and impending danger, causing the few people who heard it snicker silently and a certain redhead turn a brighter hue of his hair. Of course, he would not let the muggle-loving Weasel get away with ruining his perfect evening. _'Muggle-loving… Oh, the irony of it all.'_ He thought sarcastically.

Peeved, Ron grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the walls of the Ministry ballroom violently, before wielding his wand and poking the ash-colored tip near his Adam's apple. "You git! Who gave you the right to touch our Herm—"

"Ron! Stop it!" Hermione grasped Ron's upper arm none too gently, prying his obviously bigger frame than hers away from Draco.

"But Hermione…!"

Ron's eyes flickered for a moment to look at his long-time best friend, which gave the perfect opportunity for Draco to draw out his wand and hit Ron's wand, slightly averting it as he pointed his wand to his face. "Don't take it too hard, Weasel. Loony's waiting for you in Hogwarts, and is a year and a term away from graduating, if I remember correctly. Hmmm… Wait. I think that's a term away… Yes, yes. I pride myself in my keen senses and photographic memory. I remember you two practically draped with each other since sixth year… OH!" Draco feigned a scandalized expression, his eyebrows disappearing under the platinum fringes that fell boyishly near his eyes and covered his forehead slightly, his mercurial eyes widening and his mouth gaping slightly. "… Or did you ditch Loony for Potter?"

Even Remus Lupin had to restrain Harry from jumping at Draco.

(a/n: Too many homosexual innuendos, I know, but I can't help it! Deep inside, I'm a fan of slash! XP)

"Draco!" Hermione hissed angrily, and with reflexes so swift and fluid and so unlike her, used her toes to lift the cursed yet not-so-cursed pair of shoes and, a stiletto in each hand, pointed at the two male creatures before her who couldn't get their raging testosterones and jarring personalities from clashing. "You two stop bickering like kids or I'll… I'll shove these bloody heels into your nostrils so bad you'll be screaming bloody murder!" She lifted the stilettos shakily and slightly, emphasizing her point.

From her peripheral she saw Draco's eyes twinkle in amusement, and one of his eyebrows rise in what she, as his arch-nemesis and childhood rival for so long, could identify as skeptical, taunting, downright telling her that she wasn't serious and challenging her to carry on with it look. "… And I'm not afraid to use these shoes so better worry your life out, Draco. Wouldn't want your oh-so-perfect and aristocratic nose ruined now, would you?"

Draco frowned. "Touché…" He whispered.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly when he heard him whisper, but she saw the beginnings of a smug look on Ron's face and before it could manifest and get a rise out of Draco, she turned to him and snarled. "And you too, Ronald! I'm not hesitant to jostle this bloody heel into your flaring and freckled nose!"

Ron spoke from her left, not in the least bit threatened. "You wouldn't really do that to one of your best friends, right, Hermione?"

Hermione glared at him. Seeing as the two didn't even seem the least intimidated, she steadied her grasp and lifted the shoes to have the heels dangerously close to their nostrils. "Oh you bet I would!"

"Herms… That's quite enough…" Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, and marveled at how frigid and tense her body was under his touch.

"Stay away, Harry. I need to do this, even if these two are our friends." Hermione growled.

__

'You mean :your: friends.' Harry amended silently. The idea of being friends with Malfoy because of Hermione was still hovering in his mind, and he still couldn't absorb the fact quite properly. Honestly, who wouldn't be surprised? Hermione and Malfoy, of all the people who could hook up?

"But Hermione…?" Ron whined.

"Shut up!"

"But—"

"Shut. UP! And put your wands down!"

This time, Draco butted… Literally.

"But—"

"But—"

"No buts!" She growled menacingly.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… Fine! But make him withdraw his wand first!" Draco acceded reluctantly, but still stubborn to not let go of his weapon.

"No way:You: go first!" Ron retaliated.

"No you!"

"No you!"

"You!"

"Yo—"

"Ron," Hermione gritted out, finally squeezing herself in between the two quarreling guys. She turned to Ron and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I want to ask you something and I want you to answer truthfully."

Ron nodded tightly, his eyes never leaving the now-sneering face of Draco Malfoy behind Hermione, and his tense shoulders relaxing slowly as he moved his arm that brandished the wand.

Hermione's hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek, and then to his slightly tousled hair and she brushed them away from his face. She was fascinated at how his deep blue and Harry's emerald green eyes always revealed what they were feeling, a great contrast to Draco's silver-grey ones that always had barriers. She could drown in his eyes, just like how she could drown in Harry's. She loved the emotions that flashed in them. She loved everything about the two blokes.

She loved her friends, her :best: friends dearly, so much that it scared her as to what lengths she could go just for the two. But then, she had to know something first.

"Ron, do you love me?"

* * *

Foreheads leaning against each other, both Hermione and Draco laughed. Both knew what just happened was foolish and childish — and in front of many people too!—, but they couldn't care less. 

After the episode with Ron, to which she asked a question that completely and absolutely threw him off-guard, and to which he answered _Is that a rhetorical question?_, her eyes brimmed considerably. Her actions made Harry approach and embrace her tightly, all the while murmuring how sorry he was that he never did exert extra effort to let her know that she was appreciated. Ron also joined in the embrace, his longer, lanky arms scooping them both, and apparently, Draco pried them away from her, mumbling something that sounded like too much affection and about bloody time.

The most amazing thing, however, was that Ron was the first to stick his hand out to Draco and form some sort of truce. She was more expecting it to be Harry, since among the three, he would be most inclined to peacemaking, but it shocked her that Ron, of the three took the first step to putting those eight years of rivalry behind them. But of course, Ron couldn't help but drop threats about bloody gits, hurting, crying and touching, something that she didn't quite understand in her somewhat distraught, emotional state, and to which Draco only smirked evilly.

The two walked slowly, Hermione now wearing her stilettos, to the dance floor, unperturbed by the fact that dancing pairs all parted to make way for them. She reached up to him and placed her arms on his shoulders, while Draco slipped his arms around her waist, his hands dipping dangerously low and pulling her flush against him. From a distance she could see Ron's eyes glaring at Draco's back.

"Ron's trying to kill you with his glare, did you know?" Hermione whispered into his ear, without removing her gaze at the redhead.

"I know. Probably jealous or sommat. Not that I care." Draco retorted, his fingers making slow circles at the small of her back.

Hermione smiled slightly when she saw Harry wink at her, tap Ron on the shoulder and pull him to the refreshments table. "Really now… Hey, that tickles, Draco."

"Hmmm?" He asked, his fingers still making small circles while his hand crept up her back to rest on her outer shoulder blade so his arm would encircle her shoulders. "I reckon Weasley's at the refreshments table and consequently forgot about playing big brother to you. The bloody git could easily trade you for his bottomless appetite."

"How did you know?" She drew back slightly, far enough to see his face.

Draco merely flashed her that irritating yet charming smirk. "I can't feel his eyes boring holes into my head anymore. Now I wonder, how in Merlin's name did you last seven years being treated like that?"

She shook her head smilingly, her actions portraying her emotions, and she just placed her head on his shoulder. How she managed to go through seven years like that she didn't know; only she knew that she loved her best friends more than herself that sometimes it hurt.

She nuzzled her nose into his neck, inhaling his scent. And how come she couldn't get enough of him?

If asked weeks ago, she couldn't have answered that; but now that everything fell into place, she knew her response, and would gladly give it immediately… Just like how she could easily answer when asked what the ingredients to the Polyjuice Potion are. It's simple, really. It was all because she—

"Hermione..." Draco breathed moments later. "Are you certain you're willing to..."

Hermione drew back ever so slightly, gazed at him lovingly and nodded, her forehead bumping Draco's lightly several times in the process. "I'm sure… Draco Malfoy, I love you."

"Of course you do." Draco said matter-of-factly, smirking that trademark Malfoy smirk all over again. "Everyone does."

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Git."

"An irresistible git at that." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hmmm... True." Hermione conceded. "And I wouldn't have you any other way." She smirked before pulling him in for another mind-blowing and heady kiss.

She knew the answer, all right. And she wished that the feeling wouldn't go away (not that she suspected it would, but still…), because it took her almost forever to learn an answer to something so precious that she couldn't possibly live without when in school she could effortlessly find the answers to all the useless questions of her instructors in seconds.

She could hear Lavender's shrilly voice back then in their dormitories when they were in fifth year, when she had sobbed silently and closed her drapes to protect herself from the other girls' eyes, when Parvati asked Lavender what was wrong with her.

'_Parvati, wise people go bonkers when they're…'_

"I love you…" Draco whispered against her lips, his breath mingling with hers. "I love you, Hermione."

He loved her, and he made her feel loved, like no else can and will ever do. And that was her answer.

finis

»Some Additional Notes«

__

'Love is the last magic everyone can use.' - from _Juusangatsu no Shukumei,_ or Destiny of the Thirteenth Month, Opening Theme of El Hazard, the Alternative World. It's my rough translation (and maybe others' too) of this line: _Ai ha daremo ha tsukaeru saigo no mahou_.

Well, that was it. Hope I made your day… or not. Hehe. That was so assuming of me. I think Ron and Raco were childish, but then again, they _are_ whenever they're around each other.

But I want to thank you all for sticking with me here; it's going to be my baby forever. If you still want to hang out and know more about what I'm going to qrite next, just check out http / www . livejournal . com / user / mudlbloodslyth . Just remove the spaces since scerws up a bit too much.

Kangsa hamnida! Merci beaucoup! Domo arigatou! Danke! Grazie! Thank you very much!

Melissa Spitfire


End file.
